


Mesathesiophobia

by Lelecturovirus



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies), finnick odair - Fandom
Genre: 72th edition, F/M, the hunger games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelecturovirus/pseuds/Lelecturovirus
Summary: 𝒯𝒽ℯ ℳℯ𝓃𝓉ℴ𝓇Slipping through the meshes of the death nets had defined the adolescence of the youngest winner in the history of the Games. Finnick Odair had quickly learned the hard way that life outside the arena was far crueler.As the 72nd edition of the Games dawns, the former winner must once again take on the role of mentor to support a tribute whose innocence will soon be stained.- ℳ𝒶𝓇𝓁ℴ𝓌 𝒮𝓎𝓁𝓋ℯ𝓇ℯ̈ℯ -Winning the games doesn't make you a winner,you are barely a survivor
Relationships: Finnick Odair/Marlow Sylverëe, Finnick Odair/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. Tʜᴇ Aʀᴇɴᴀ's Mᴇʀᴍᴀɪᴅ

**B** **ook I**

Part i. The Reaping

  * _The Reaping_
  * _Welcome to the Capitole_
  * _Dream_
  * _Training_
  * _Run the Show_
  * _The Last Interview_



* * *

Part ii. The Arena

  * The Cornucopia
  * “A tree dances for the wind not because it enjoys it, but because it doesn't want to break.”
  * Life's the prize for one 




	2. × part one

♚➳ Ｔｈｅ Ｒｅａｐｉｎｇ ✯♛  
  


Wʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ **sᴏᴡ** ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇs ᴏғ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴠᴇsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ **ʀᴇᴀᴘ** ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me on this new adventure!  
> Also posting on Wattpad at @Watsonnement


	3. one

𝒯𝒽ℯ ℛℯ𝒶𝓅𝒾𝓃ℊ

In a few weeks, the new edition of the Hunger Games will be held. These horrific games generated a lot of excitement in each District, some to satisfy their desires for the sordid and the bloody fights, and others were playing the comedy to perfection so as not to attract the wrath of the Capitol while praying that their children would not be chosen. Those Games continued for the sole purpose of insisting on the class difference that existed between the Capitol and the Districts. Affirming their superior position as oppressive victors for decades now, it was now so difficult to remember that the Districts had brought misery to the streets of the Capitol by rebelling and joining forces. The children of the Districts were confronted from an early age with the brutal and ferocious images of the Games in which the Districts were engaged in a deadly and bloody struggle. How could they remember the real enemy when the images reinforced the convictions that had been imposed for so long?

In the small wooden hut of a family of four, it was option number two that prevailed. Nephilis and Opaline had two children, twins who looked exactly alike, but whose character was fundamentally different. For four years the day of the Reaping had confronted them with the possibility of having their daughter and son torn from the family home. The parenting pair had always taken care to protect their children as best they could, but the means available were few and far between. Nephilis did not earn his livelihood easily as most of what he fished on the Jumper, the Trawl he had named for good luck, was not easy to catch and the sharp stern of the boat split the bad winds in half for the safety of the sailors. Nephilis had always returned unharmed and with a box of fish still alive for the Capitolians' stomachs. This work, however, always allowed him to fill the plates of his wife and two children, not everyone in District 4 was so fortunate despite the opulence of their territory in comparison with other Districts. The sea abounded in food and the fine salty plots that settled on the land allowed the farmers to have good harvests which they then sold to the inhabitants, happy not to have to share with the Capitol.

{ _Up with your turret_

_Aren't we just terrified?}_

On the edge of the cliff near this hut was a seventeen-year-old girl with big innocent and laughing eyes as she listened to the new mischiefs of her twin brother, Newt. Newt had been unable to go on a boat expedition for nearly a year now, but that did not stop him from getting his hands dirty as a canner and being able to establish which fish was up to the thin mouths of the Capitol. Of course, his brother was a natural mockingbird and he did not hesitate to list a few situations in which the Capitol would not dare to approach a fish. Her brother was able to relieve the girl's stomach pains on the eve of Harvest Day, yet she was sure that he was just as anxious as she was. She wished she had his strength of mind...   
  


" - Marlow, only one more year to go and we will finally be rid of these Games."

The said Marlow had only one thing to look forward to: that her eighteen springs would come soon. She would no longer have to wait in the rows for the District's escort to draw her name at random and make her worst nightmare come true. The little blonde girl would place her hand against her twin's hand with a slight smile and then lay her head against Newt's shoulder. Would there ever be a day when the existence of the Games would come to an end? Marlow hoped so with all her heart, but she wasn't naive either. She knew that it could not end peacefully and quietly. That night, the twins were unable to sleep.  
  


On that special day, the family had set one of the chickens in their yard at the table and it was with a knotted tummy that Marlow tried to shove something down her throat. There wasn't too much to worry about. After all, her brother Newt's name was only listed six times, and that number didn't seem much when others their age had slipped their names in more than ten times that year. In addition, there was a large number of people and therefore children in this District. Marlow was chewing on a piece of wing trying not to think about the fact that her own name was more than six times her own name. Her parents didn't know this, nor did her brother. She had had to drop her name once again to get a few extra rations at the beginning of the year. The February storm had swept away the landmarks of many fish that had taken several weeks to find their way back to the nets of District 4, which had impoverished the incomes of all the inhabitants and their food supplies. This was the official reason why she had deposited a few bundles with her first name at the Games Office. The one that guided Marlow's decision was her twin brother's atrophied leg, which had not been treated properly since the family obviously could not afford the scalpel skills of the Capitol's doctors. Through a name, she received money which she collected preciously on the side to finally be able to treat Newt. Her small savings didn't even come close to half the amount needed, but Marlow didn't give up hope. When she could enlist as an adult at one of the coastal jobs, she could put more money aside for medical expenses. She just had to live until then.  
  


Standing in front of her mother, Marlow had the vague impression that the little chicken she had eaten was moving in the opposite direction. Channeling her anxiety had never been her strong point, yet she was working on it. The girl lowered her head to watch her mother's calloused hands slide the sides of her shirt inside her skirt, which had once been pleated creamy white and now a less clean color. The seventeen-year-old looked so fine in this fabric made from District 8 flaps, yet she was pretty. Much too pretty for the Games as she was thinking of her mother. The lilac color of the cloth brightened her cheeks and the blonde of her hair barely longer than the length of her shoulders. Her silhouette was thin despite her firm, sturdy thighs, despite this unlikely mix Marlow was harmonious. Opaline refused to think that one of her children could be chosen.

"Everything was going to be all right...", Marlow thought as she lined up in front of the tent for the teenage census for the Games. When it was her turn, she would slowly step forward before extending her index finger as protocol dictated, and the man in charge would draw blood for her to add to the participants' records. It was clever on the part of the Capitol, in this way he knew perfectly well the number of children of the age of the Games and thus managed not to miss any detail. The blonde teenager then proceeded to join the row of girls while massaging her index finger, certain that she would never get used to this unpleasant pinch. Her gaze crossed that of her twin on the other side, among the boys, and her expression was just as dull as Marlow's. The blonde teenager then proceeded to join the row of girls while massaging her index finger, certain that she would never get used to this unpleasant pinch. Marlow couldn't help but gesticulate among her sisters, she wasn't as close to the stage as she had been in the early years of Harvest, but just the sight of that raised rectangular piece of wood made her feel blue. Harvest Day made her selfish, a trait she did not really like, but she begged not to be named along with her brother. If she escaped this year, she would have only one more year to wish for the same grace. District 4 is heavily populated, only one name would be selected from among the girls and boys so why should she be the one with the doomed fate?

The Capitol's representative and escort for this District, Leyphia, had just made a colorful entrance, from her flamboyant pink hair to her distractingly twisted tights. Marlow was really wondering what was going through the minds of the Capitol residents when they came on excursions to the Districts and were faced with a standard of living so different from their own. Did they even realize it? When Marlow came back to reality, the video on Panem's story was already finished and Leyphia was dipping her hand into the seaweed basket made by the District. A nervous tic wiggled the hand of the teenage girl, who fiddled for a few moments with her braided bun, praying with all her strength not to hear her twin's name. Her wishes had just been granted when a certain Marius, unknown to the girl's memories, echoed from the microphone, his gaze clinging to Newt's gaze. The latter exchanged a small smile with him, brief but relieved. In a few minutes, Marlow could return his smile when a comrade joined the male tribute on the stage. Leyphia wandered her verdant gaze among the crowd as her long manicured fingers grabbed a piece of paper, the paper of the future female tribe of District 4.  
  


"So who's the lovely one? Marlow Sylverëe!"

The girl's breath had just stuck in her throat while her whole being was petrified. Marlow couldn't believe it, she didn't want to believe it. Sadly, her limbs didn't have time to wake up on their own that her sisters had turned to her and one of them was pushing her out of line. Welcomed by the Peacekeepers, Marlow forced herself to regain the use of her legs to make her way to the stage. She wouldn't even listen to the rest of the official speech, and oh, Lord, she couldn't even look at her twin, let alone look for her parents' faces in the crowd. Marlow's mind was like nothingness: empty. She was being dragged by the Peacekeepers to City Hall as her mind repeated the fateful words of the presenter Leyphia.

Almost pushed into a living room, Marlow was finally coming out of her torpor. She couldn't believe it, among all the girls between twelve and eighteen years old with an astronomical number of names in the urn it was her first name that had been chosen. The teenage girl was not ready to be thrown into the arena like a piece of meat for the bloodthirsty tribes, nor was she ready to give up life. Her amber gaze clung to the reflection of a mirror, and for a moment Marlow watched her image. She didn't look frightening at all, but she didn't look like fragile prey either... Could this thought reassure her and keep her sane? Marlow hoped so. Luckily her thoughts were interrupted when her parents and twin burst into the room. It was a vision of horror. Her mother and brother had tears streaming down their faces, and Marlow had to take it upon herself not to sob as well. There was no question of staying sober and in control of herself to appear strong, no, she knew her family read her like an open book, but rather to restrain herself so that she would be able to get out of that room and onto the train and not make the Peacekeepers pull out their batons and throw her into the damn transport. Marlow still enjoyed her mother's tender embrace, her brother's fine hand against her back, and her father's strong gaze. Her father was perhaps the most helpless. He was going to have to let his little girl go to the Capitol he hated and then face twenty-three other kids. Nephilis had always thought he had his whole life to show how much he loved his daughter, but he had made the terrible mistake of forgetting that the Games could steal any child, even his own.

" - Time's over. Immediate boarding."

The Peacekeeper pointed to the door, and Marlow had to force herself out of her mother's loving arms. The teenager was going to join the train from hell, she had no other choice anyway but to face possible death. As Marlow left the room, her brother shouted at her that they would be waiting for her at the train station and that he knew she had the makings of a winner. This thought only rekindled the anxiety of the now female tribute from District 4.

Marlow knew that the transportation was to bring them directly to the Capitol and that they should, therefore, be quite luxurious, but she had not expected so much wealth on a common train. Her large amber eyes were captivated for a moment by the enormous chandelier hanging above a black marble table. This chandelier was composed of a multitude of mirrors in the form of droplets, there was no need to say the Capitol had a taste for luxury. Thus a myriad of Marlow animated the chandelier while the real one fell into one of the emerald green armchairs. The male tribute of her District arrived inside the compartment a few minutes after her. Marlow took great care to observe it, or rather to analyze it. She had always had a rather observant mind, and here it was rather necessary since she knew him not at all. He was very tall, at least two heads taller than she was, and he looked mostly like an ice cabinet. The Sylverëe family had fun saying that "being tall means the information takes longer to come to the brain" and Marlow was surprised to hope that this was true. The train hadn't even left the station, and she was already thinking of her counterpart as an enemy. The truth wasn't far off, but the teenage girl was repulsed by the thought.  
  


Engulfed by the huge chair, so brightly colored that Marlow had to squint her eyes to soften the color, the teenager couldn't understand how luck had turned its back on her so easily. She had a year left to escape the Games, and she had been chosen today. She was... Marlow couldn't put into words how she felt. She was in a phase of denial, almost wishing it was just a nightmare from which she would soon wake up. The scene was still going on behind her eyes, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Her amber gaze left the window as the landscape of her District dissipated and she placed it on the coffee table, which reflected back to her. She didn't look frightening at all, but her terrified expression did not do her justice... At least her male counterpart didn't look any better despite his imposing build. He was sitting in the chair in front of her, and while she seemed to be swallowed by the furniture, he seemed to be cramped. What was his name again? Marius something. His hands were huge, the local kids said he was wringing the necks of the pikes his crew was bringing back to the beach. Did he plan to wring their necks at every tribute?

Luckily Marlow was pulled from her thoughts when the short two-hour journey brought them to safety. There was no real surprise as to the mentors they would be assigned. Marlow knew the list by heart: Mags, an old lady who had won the eleventh edition of the Games and who had since seen the arena become more and more bloody and deceitful; Muscida and Librae both of whom had been dead for several years; Finnick Odair who was only fourteen when he has been crowned the victor of the sixty-fifth edition of the Games; Ron and Annie for the seventy-eighth and seventieth edition respectively. From this pallet of winners, three had to be taken from the list of winners, since Annie Cresta was not the most mentally stable, but who knows? Maybe she would make an excellent coach or maybe she would be a Capitol trickster. Would Marlow end up a total weirdo like her? She'd have to win already.  
  
  


"- Aargh. I miss the smell of home already. ", his comrade of misfortune slipped in as he got off the train first.

Marlow took one last look at the chandelier, and the chandelier greeted him by sending back about 50 miniature Marlows with dull faces and dull complexions. The color of her shirt was no longer able to embellish her cheeks, now that the Capitol had made her a tribute. As she walked out of the compartment, she would discover the mentors for the coming weeks...

{ _Shale, screen your worry_

 _From what you won't ever find_ }


	4. two

𝒲ℯ𝓁𝒸ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒞𝒶𝓅𝒾𝓉ℴ𝓁ℯ

For seven years Finnick Odair had been put in front of the cameras at each new Reaping, as was the tradition for the old Victors. Every year, they were once again brought to the forefront of the stage so that the Capitol could follow their progress and the Capitol could laugh at the Victors who could no longer stand without being held by Peacekeepers, or at the Victors who were glassy-eyed from the many doses of morphine injected into their bodies. The Capitol did not only savor the degeneration of most of the Victors. For some, mostly from the CareerDistricts, it was possible to contemplate and admire them because these Victors had retained their intimidating frames - the physical aspect of a Victor, according to Caesar - or their lively and teasing spirit, or simply because they had a touching history that the Capitol was delighted to be able to strip from the secret garden of the said Victory.

For him, it had been a long time since the Capitol had robbed him and knew all about the "youngest Victor in the history of the Games". Finnick had always been naturally charming and enticing, using his dimples and sparkling blue greeny eyes to win the favor of the ladies of his District; it was only logical that his charm worked on the Capitol, especially since such a handsome kid was thrown to the Games. His innocent charm quickly turned into a marketing strategy that earned him several expensive sponsors even before the interview with Caesar took place. Once in the arena, both the Capitolians and his opponents soon realized that the boy's abilities should not be limited to his charm and that he was cunning, attentive, quick-witted, and reckless. These traits condemned the other tributes as the Capitol fell further under the spell of young Finnick. The youngest Victor in the history of the Games. The Man with the Trident. The handsome Victor. His titles were too numerous for Finnick to remember all of them, and he would rather not remember them at all. Whether it was his physique mixed with these traits or all these titles had condemned Finnick to a sordid future conceived by President Coriolanus Snow for the sixteen springs of the young Winner and that Finnick relived each week by clenching his teeth under the mask he had woven at the end of the Games.

_{Even if you do wear a maid outfit, it doesn't change the fact that you're strong or_

_that you're smart or that you try hard at everything you do. —_ **_Hiro Fujiwara_ ** _}_

The sun seeped through the thin roof of the station which still separated the Districts from the Capitol, it was the last rampart before knowing the life of opulence and ease, or in other words, it was direct access to the grotesque as Johanna Mason would say. The station mixed the pure style of the facade with the baroque style inside, compensating for the discretion with a multitude of statues and sculptures.  
  


Finnick sat on a bench outside, enjoying the rays of sunshine that reminded him of the many sunny days in his District. If he closed his eyes and forgot the stench of opulence, he could almost imagine himself back on the coast. At her side stood Mags, an eternal sweet and caring smile as she communicated with Finnick. Mags was what you might call a pioneer of the Games as she was the Victor of the 11th edition and since then she had always assumed the role of mentor with modesty and understanding. It had been many years since she had lost the use of her speech, an injury in the arena that had permanently numbed her tongue.

"The train should be here any minute." Finnick replied to Mags' silent question.

The man with the golden hair was a bit on edge, since the victory of his District a few years earlier the public and President Snow had the idea that District 4 was no longer too much in line with the image of the Career Districts. Honestly, Finnick didn't care at all except that the President was always resorting to manipulation and threats. In his opinion, Annie Cresta's victory was not glamorous as she had spent most of her time in hiding and when the tributes were down to five, she had come out of hiding only to survive the breach in the arena dam. The only reason Annie had survived was because of her exceptional swimming ability, which made her a better swimmer than the remaining tribunes. In the eyes of her mentors, this was still a deserved victory and survival. Alas for the Capitol, it was a far cry from the arena buried under the shredded bodies and bloody battles. In other words, the tributes had not confronted and opposed each other enough. President Snow resented the barbarity of this year's Games, while Annie's mental state attested to the horror of it.

  
Finnick had got the message, this year the tributes of the 4th should think of another tactic than hiding and keep a low profile. However, the former winner wasn't sure what other options he had left when he had watched the Reaping broadcast. The Career Tributes were all thickly built like those in District 11, and now Finnick received a small, frail-looking female tribute. He was a little luckier with the male tribe, which was about the same size as the District 2 tribe, but Finnick was reserved and preferred to hear him talk to find out what kind of tribute he was. Nevertheless, he still weighed in because the physique of this Marlow was not in her favor. According to statistics, being a woman was already proving to be a handicap in the arena, but being small and frail didn't help the mentor's business at all. Finnick frankly hoped that her temperament would be as reckless and impetuous as Johanna Mason, who, once in the arena, had proved fearsome.

Mags gently tapped his wrist to get the attention of his little protégé and show him that the train was arriving at the station, that it was high time to greet their tributes for the seventy-second edition of the Games. The train looked small on the outside, but both mentors knew that it was only a visual effect and that inside the train, the tribunes must have had something to lie down in comfort and a few pastries to slip in, even though the real welcome was in the Games Hotel, specially designed by the Capitol more than two decades earlier.

" - Marlow, Marius. Welcome to Capitol Hill. This is Mags, and I'm Finnick."

The presentation was driven by a particularly jovial tone and a welcoming smile that he reserved for the Games. His mask had just slipped over his charming face and would remain there until the end of the Games. Finnick had become accustomed to playing a role when he was in public and even in private, he was only the real District 4 Finnick in the presence of Mags and he was learning to be one in front of Annie as well.

His first observation echoed his earlier thoughts: Marlow looked absolutely tiny next to Marius, and particularly fragile too. However, she seemed to be particularly attentive to the oral exchanges and to what was around her; Finnick took care to validate this as a quality. This kid needed it.  
  


After helping Mags to board the small convoy, and instructing both tributes to do the same, they were taken through the city to the hotel specially designed for the Games. The hotel was connected to the training building, which was connected underground, which made the journey easier and, more importantly, prevented any attempts by any of the tributes to flee. It was obviously a scenario that the Capitol had experienced in the past, but long before Finnick could remember it. Mags had told him that the year before his Games, there had been rumors that several tributes had fled shortly before going to the arena. Unfortunately, all of them had been found and immediately shot before being, it was rumored, thrown into the arena to remind the tributes of their fate. This story was chilling, especially since there was no longer any recording available of the tenth edition of the Games.  
  


Once again, the austere façade of the Hotel contrasted with the technology made available for the comfort of the mentors and tribunes during the two weeks of training and testing. The Capitol had opted for modern decoration, following the latest trend as usual. Finnick let Mags go before his tributes before making sure to close the door properly, he had learned that there were sometimes Mutes who spied on behalf of some mentors. Most of the time it was those in District 8 and 9, the weakest.

♚➳ . ✯♛

While Marlow's eyes squinted at the many dishes that adorned the dining table, Mags had settled into a Scandinavian-designed chair covered with an emerald green velvet fabric. Finnick, for his part, was still standing and scrutinizing the two tribunes as if he could detect whether they had "the aura of Victors". Marlow swayed from one foot to the other, as it was obvious that this intense, analytical gaze made her uncomfortable, as did her counterpart who refused to wait any longer when there was a real feast at the table. With a wave of her hand, Mags mimed eating little, and slowly, Marlow deduced that they might upset their stomachs if they didn't comply. She carefully detached a leg from the orange turkey, barely holding back from open saliva.

" - I think we've got a lot to work with this year, Mags!"

The female tribute wasn't sure how to understand that remark, perhaps it was a sign that they saw potential in them. It should be encouraging to think positively when she and Marius were going to have to fight to the death against people she knew nothing about and who had never done anything to her.

Mags had risen from his seat to fill a small portion of rice, or at least it looked like it, for each of them by depositing the bowl first with Finnick and then with his tributes. There was a particularly fresh smell coming from the bowl, Marlow took a bite out of it and couldn't put her finger on the aromatic herb responsible for the light flavor. Mags smiled a gentle smile before tapping Finnick's hand, his interpreter obviously, saying that it was a bit of mint. In any case, it was very good, as Marius testified, who had finished his bowl in a hurry.

"As is often the case, alliances will be a big part of the start of the Games. Usually, the Career Districts join each other with the participation of ours depending on the edition. It depends on you, your abilities, and your feelings. We'll discuss it again this weekend when you've had a chance to meet them and practice on the side."

No sooner had they settled down than the discussion turned to strategies, at the same time Marius and Marlow didn't have time to yawn at the crows for very long. In no time at all, they would be in the arena... The idea of an alliance left Marlow puzzled because she had never found it easy to trust anyone, so in this context, she knew that alliances were only made for half of the game and that they would quickly give way to leave only one winner. She had no desire to be stabbed in the back, either figuratively or literally.

" - Mags and I need to know as much about you as possible. In a few days, we will have to provide an initial report to the organizers of the Games and by then we hope to have decided with you on the tactics to adopt in order to know what information we should judiciously conceal. "Tomorrow you will be introduced to your stylist and then you will start your first training sessions. Use the night to think about your abilities, and we'll talk again tomorrow."

Her turkey bite barely slid down her throat as she pondered the term "abilities." At what point could you count on abilities to kill a kid her age? She knew that Career tributes were trained from childhood which made them fearsome by nature and according to Marlow, it changed their minds too. What sane person would want to volunteer for the Games? It was all ridiculous and scary at the same time. The night would certainly give her some advice since she already knew she would be unable to sleep a wink.  
  



	5. three

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑠𝑦𝑚𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 sea 𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑢𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠.

_The water would throw itself in gentle gusts against the rocks on the beach, before returning to the liquid expanse in a gentle scraping against the sand. Warm sand, yellow sand, fine sand. Hands quickly grabbed her waist and pulled her body back, her feet sinking into the pleasant sand. From their perches, the black-headed seagulls watched the struggle between brother and sister betting their spoils of shells on the boy. These birds were clairvoyant, the girl's head popped out of the water a few minutes after scolding her brother for throwing her in before two voices mingled in a childish burst of laughter._

_The two teenagers were now lying on the sand, their skin covered with a granular particle of sand and grains of salt, when the brother sang a passage from a District poet. The same poem that their father used to sing before the change of season when he would go out on winter waves._

_“There are only four boats left at anchor, Jacky has closed his bar. The seagulls are making big circles, and the cats are taking over the beach. The lonely fishermen cast their lines and cut off the cooling air, dry. The clouds disperse in the sky, the barge is still in its place, and the cabin crew too.”_

_Her brother's blond, reddish hair illuminated her tanned, freckle-spattered face, a bit like a crown. A big lock of hair fell on his eyes, the parents often mocked him saying that it gave him a mysterious look._

_“At the bottom of this cove resounds this perpetual movement, from the slamming of the waves on the rocks, to the calm winds of the wedding rains, and seeing the years go by, they whisper their oldest adage to us.”_

_The wind cleared his forehead of this great lock so that the sister could catch her gaze on her brother's dark one, as if his big brown eyes sucked the soul to read it carefully and understand its owner._

_“Where do you see us in ten years, Marlow?”_

Suddenly the blue sky gave way to a ceiling obscured by the calm night which was disturbed only by the troubled breathing of the recent female tribute from District 4. Marlow clung desperately to the sheets of the bed to calm her agitation and, above all, to push away the snatches of her dream. In it, her brother Newt seemed so real, as if he had really been with her and they had both found each other again on that beach.

She climbed out of bed, staggering awkwardly to the bathroom door attached to her room before rushing in. The sink wasn't filling up fast enough for her, and she was trying to be patient before she could cool her face. The coolness of the water soothed her torment and restlessness, putting her thoughts back in place even if it was painful.

“ _Where do you see us in ten years, Marlow_?”

That question was a cheap shot. A mischievous and unhealthy dream when the future possibilities of those who were staying in this hotel glimmered into nothingness. It was obvious that Marlow wanted to be reunited with her family, the tiny family hut, the smell of the sea and the iodine in the seaweed bread. Nevertheless, there was a severe difference between desire and possibility, ability. Did the frail fighter have any possibility of getting through the arena? Yes, no doubt she could avoid two or three tributes and save herself. Can she win this edition of the Games?

“- Abilities.”, the blonde grumbled.

The same word that Finnick had used the day before, advising his two tribes to find out what their assets were and identify their Achilles' heel. Marlow had absolutely no idea, but she knew that what might cause her loss was her altruism and empathy. There was no place for these values in the arena where blood and violence were the order of the day.

♚➳ . ✯♛

The living room was empty when Marlow came out of her room a few minutes before the appointment time given by their mentors the day before. She had had to put on her nightclothes because she couldn't find any more in her room, the fabric was far too noble to be worn in bed anyway. These clothes fitted her body without giving her the effect of being in the grip of a boa constrictor as if the fabric was floating tightly around her.

Mags' slightly arched silhouette made its appearance before the mentor noticed Marlow, and when she gave her a gentle smile that surprised the tribute, she waved her over to the table and placed a bowl of nutrients in front of one of the chairs. Marlow, who had little appetite, had no other choice but to feed herself under the kindly gaze of the old winner.

It was good, at least one of the mentors was interested in the fate of his two tributes, since obviously this Finnick Odair greatly preferred the comfort of the Capitol's sheets to an early morning meal with Marius and Marlow, both worried. The mentor hadn't deigned to make an appearance, so the tributes were forced to follow Leyphia to join the preparation team.

“- You won't recognize each other, _lambs_. Cinq will take care of the concept, design your outfits and the instructions for the rest.”, explained the hostess of their District in the elevator.

The colorful Capitolian took care to give them a few details and anecdotes of no importance, only to give them a little chat that only interested her in the end. Thus the tributes learned that the stylist had the first French name of the number five, simply because he was the fifth child in a family of eight, and that the parents had found it original to list their children rather than give them a first name. Marlow, on the other hand, began to keep a list of the number of absurdities of the Capitol and took care to add it to her mental count.

“He's not alone; he has a small team just as good as him. You'll see. They'll take care of you first.” A small laugh interrupted her explanation before she continued, “There's no way Cinq is going to see you like this... hm-hm.”

Marlow mumbled between her teeth that "looking decent is a defect at the Capitole," and judging by Leyphia's angry look, she had heard it. The District's hostess then pushed them into a fully tiled room and within a quarter of a second the tributes had become prey to "the little team just as good as Cinq”.

Two Capitolian with giraffe necks had painstakingly scrutinized Marlow's scalp before inspecting the tips of her blond hair with a small pair of scissors that looked ridiculous in front of their elongated necks.

“Incredibly silky hair, but terribly fine!”, spat out the one with the long eyelashes.

After many minutes, the scissors stopped clicking, and Marlow began to straighten her head before she was flattened again against the swivel table. The rest of her hair was not lost on the two human giraffes, who refined her eyebrows before stripping her entire body of all fuzz, and Marlow had never, oh never before, felt so exposed. She saw her mother plucking the chicken on Reaping day before serving it at the table, and at that moment, Marlow had become that chicken.

Her naked body, as hairless as a newborn baby, was dragged under the jets of water to be scrupulously scrubbed and cleansed. At this point, Marlow had given up and stopped pushing away the gloved and soaped hands, thinking that if she didn't fight back, the humiliation would end sooner.

It had been ten minutes since Marlow had been taken back into the tiled room and put back on the table, but this time she had been allowed to wrap herself in a fine robe. It would still be silly to get a chill just a few days before the Games. The door opened on a man who had nothing to do with the two giraffes, far from it. There was no trace of ridicule on this man, not even with the candy-blue Victorian wig he was wearing. He hinted that he had been born to wear this daring color, created for him.

“Hello Marlow, the shower wasn't too cold?,” he had probably noticed his shivering, “Did you know that cold water improves your blood circulation and wakes up your body? But above all, a cold shower prevents the appearance of varicose veins!”

Marlow's grimace gave rise to a fat burst of laughter from the cold shower enthusiast who, after a moment, approached her and held out his hand, finally deigning to introduce himself. Marlow had understood that this was the stylist of the District, Cinq, but she would never have thought of that particular entrance.

“Let's see, what have we here?”

Cinq still approached so that they could observe him scrupulously while mumbling in his triangular beard, “ _Mmh ... You're three feet tall, a thick cloth would squeeze you down_ ”. His thick eyebrows with bluish reflections frowned before softening as he ran his fingers through the tributary's hair, punctuating his discovery with a small surprised comment: “ _hair of the color of a wheat field, very soft. Very soft_ ”. The stylist's examination may have been more thorough than that of the two giraffes, but Marlow was less uncomfortable. Cinq's slightly extravagant gaze did not try to pinpoint all the flaws she had, but instead emphasized everything that was pleasing. When his gaze fell on a less graceful aspect, he would mention another pretty feature or a parade to hide this ugly aspect.

“I went to see your comrade before. The choices for sublimating a male tribute are fewer than for the female, and especially because I want your outfits to match each other.”

“You're going to cover us with fishing nets? There aren't many possibilities for our District...”

The idea of being dressed in the same costume as last year's tribunes and being covered with fishing nets until he couldn't move forward was not something he wanted to do. This idea was clearly not on the designer's agenda when he slowly shook his head to refute it.

“I wouldn't deserve this position if I covered your harmonious body with fishing nets.” the stylist said, slipping a blonde lock behind the pierced ear of the tribute.

♚➳ . ✯♛

Marius and Marlow had returned to their floor, now dressed in the uniform they would wear during the few days of training. Cinq had explained to Marlow that all the tributes would wear the same uniform, made mostly of an elastic fabric called Lycra to allow full and flexible movement, the only difference would be the orange District number which would adorn the black fabric on the left shoulder. Being numbered provided her with a common point with the stylist, this thought created the outline of a smile on the lips of the seventeen-year-old blonde.

The training room was rather large and quite dark despite the few lights, Marlow didn't know if it was intentional, but this lack of brightness strengthened her anxiety and the tummy tuck that she had been shaping since this morning. The tribunes were asked to gather in front of the instructor, herself observed from the window a few meters higher. Marlow's amber eyes did not linger there any longer than necessary, focusing her attention on what Instructor Atala was explaining:

“You have a week to get acquainted with the different stations at your disposal. There are various training possibilities such as weapons handling or learning certain survival techniques.”

Marlow could easily spot the weapons station, which appeared to be much larger than the others, and there were more assistants around it than around the others. At least the Career Tributes won't have the opportunity to reduce the number of targets before they're in the arena.

“The list of available stations are: archery, axes and slingshots handling, camouflage, insects and edible plant recognition, starting a fire, hooks, obstacle station, knots, close combat, knife and sword handling, climbing and rope station, weightlifting, and finally the wrestling station.”

While Marlow was thrilled to finally be able to complete her white list of abilities with the ability to create hooks, Districts 1 and 2 were apparently reveling in the battle and obstacle stations. She would carefully avoid lurking around there and wait for them to finish practicing.

“But don't forget. Infection, disease, and exposure can be as lethal as a weapon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newt's poem belongs to Octave Harras, poem I translated to English.


	6. four

𝓣𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

{ **Day 1** }

The first day of training had been far from brilliant, it had turned out to be rather a disaster. Marlow had done a thorough analysis of the enemy tribes and had noticed with dismay that most of them were at least two heads taller than her, with a minimum of twenty kilos heavier as well. The first day was like an avalanche of bad news, a bit like the snowball effect.

The second little white ball had not been hard to notice when Marlow met the gaze of some of the tribes: they didn't take her seriously at all, they didn't even see her as a target. If Marlow lived in a normal world, she would have judged this with impressive positivity, but in this case, she was entered in the seventy-second edition of the Hunger Games. Her opponents didn't even try to intimidate her to put pressure on her, no, they saw her already dead.

Marlow may have reinforced their impressions by spending a good hour at the weapons station with the assistant who was explaining how to handle a sword. The female tribe had learned how to hold the hilt of the sword and to get an idea of the weight of the weapon. Enthusiastic, the assistant offered to show her some attack techniques by practicing with a foam dummy. His burst of enthusiasm had shriveled after a few unsuccessful attempts under the amused gaze of the Career tribe. 

"- Here. I don't think this is for me."

Marlow shoved the sword in the assistant's hands before leaving the training station, trying hard not to listen to the petty talk that contained her name. She couldn't help but think back to Finnick's words without feeling the urge to gut him or laugh in his face. " _Find the abilities that will ensure your survival_." What if Marlow didn't have any? Would she have to sign her death warrant with the president already, just to make it go faster?

She took a moment to pull herself together and remember that she had a family too, desperately waiting for her return. She could not betray them by not even trying to fight, it was not worthy of her and the love she had for her family. Marlow headed to the station devoted to edible plants and insects, choosing a skill opposite to swordplay.

At this station, there were only two people, both from District 8, and the assistant seemed far too cheerful, he probably wasn't used to receiving a tribute at his stall so now that he had three it must have been a miraculous day.

"-District 4 is joining us! Welcome to our station." said the assistant, enthused.  
"- Your companion is not joining us? ", asked the female tribute of the eight.

That's right. The snowball effect hadn't stopped there, there was a last ball named Marius. His District counterpart had decreed after his unsuccessful attempt at swordplay that it was better to " _go alone and work separately_ ". Marlow wasn't really surprised, basically, she had thought of this scenario while they were still on the train, but let's just say that Marius immediately asserting himself as the enemy made her more anxious. Marlow knew him to be good at hand-to-hand combat, he was tall and well over fifty kilos heavier than she was, so Marlow wouldn't be very lucky if she came face to face with him once in the arena. So she would try to do as she did in training and avoid it as long as possible. 

"- You'll have to deal with only me."

The station was quite interesting and stimulated several senses at the same time, namely visual, smell, and touch. The assistant explained that first of all, it was the eyes that determined whether the plant or insect was edible or not. The assistant was careful to give some examples: a plant with yellow dots on the tips of its leaves should be dropped, as should small beetles with red shells. 

"-If he can be discreet, the beetle will be able to eat."  
"- What's that?"

Marlow had straightened up the assistant's notes to give a suspicious, interrogatory look to the boy, who was now facing her and being abandoned by his female companion. Unsurprisingly, the boy was taller than she was and had a broad build, but he was not as impressive as other tribesmen. In fact, Marlow seemed to be healthier than he was.

"- I have a feeling that... in the arena, some of us will opt for the same technique as the beetles.", he whispered.

He had a lively look, surrounded by a few early wrinkles, which contrasted with his granular light skin. It was probably an effect of the massive pollution present in the textile-centered industrial district. Marlow wondered what it would be like to wear these lycra outfits for training when this fabric came from her District. She was careful to keep this sensitive issue to herself and to force a friendly smile, whether it was true or not: 

"- While some of them will be lighting a fire."

♚➳ . ✯♛

The atmosphere at the meal was less light than the day before, despite Leyphia's many efforts to get Marius to talk or Marlow to laugh. The only one who was willing to play the game was Finnick, but he was the only one. Mags wasn't eating with them tonight, a headache had taken over the only friendly face Marlow wanted to see.

The blonde turned her fork around some pasta while Finnick opened the conversation by asking how the training for the two tribes had gone. At first, he received only silence as an answer, but Marius finally deigned to answer. 

"-I took a walk around the side of the armament station. The close combat, I think it suits me well. I would prefer the sword to the ax.", Marius commented almost proudly.

Marlow had the opportunity to observe him while his counterpart tried to defend himself with an ax, definitely not his weapon of choice. The weapon was far too small for thick hands, the hands that wrung the necks of the fish caught. Nevertheless, Marius had found himself two abilities, exactly as Finnick had claimed, and as if that wasn't enough Marius decided to drive the nail in, adding that the Career tribe had asked if Marius wished to join them.

Leyphia hastened to congratulate him by filling his glass at the same time, perhaps to double the congratulations. Marlow could almost have sworn that Finnick's gaze lingered on her for a moment at the announcement, but she couldn't have interpreted the meaning. Leyphia had put the bottle back down and pushed a candy-pink wick behind her shoulder to ask her how the training had gone for her. Almost immediately, she had been able to feel Finnick's curious look, Marius's burning with amusement and the hostess's purely inquisitive look. 

"-Let's just say I wouldn't die because of the food." she said, leaving her fork on the plate and leaving the table.

{ **Day 2** }

Last night, Marlow hardly slept at all. As soon as her eyes closed, her mind was playing her several scenarios in which the Career tribe surrounded her so that Marius could deliver the coup de grâce. When she woke up, she felt almost as bad as the day before if that was possible, and she felt that getting up early would not harm her. The tribute preferred to assume that today was a new day and that her slate was clean again, that it was up to her to fill it in properly today. No more avalanches on the second day.

This time, Finnick had made his presence known at breakfast by telling them about the private consultation and training program, since it was now clear that the tributes of District 4 were not going to help each other once in the arena. Marlow felt like she was being stirred up, but the renewed pain would serve as motivation for the second day of training. Marius would have his private moment with Finnick in the morning before the common breakfast, and Marlow in the evening before dinner.

Marlow decided to forget about the weapons station for today, there was no question of humiliating herself a second time. The little blond head had a little idea in mind that would allow her to regain some of the esteem of the supervisors sitting in the stands with their notebooks, and perhaps to erase that mocking look from the faces of the Career Tributes. The day before, she had noticed the drastic difference between her physique and that of most of the tribunes, and unable to sleep that night Marlow had been thinking. What could she get out of such a difference? She was convinced that she could be more agile than many of them, a better tightrope walker and perhaps even faster? 

"- The obstacle course? Aren't you afraid of breaking your bones?", said a tribute of Career 

But Marlow wasn't scared, quite the contrary. She elbowed her way into the tribes and stepped forward to be next. She knew she was fast, she'd been on the little school's track and field team, and she'd been given the role of courier last year. The job was to relay information from the West Port to the East Port in the shortest possible time, so Marlow was confident she could be fast. She only needed half of that capacity, and the rest she would save for the arena as Finnick had implied the day before.

In front of her, the first step in the obstacle course was jumping from block to block, some were higher than others and further apart, but Marlow took off with almost disconcerting ease. It reminded her of a game she and her brother used to play when they were little: they would jump from pontoon to pontoon and the first one to fall into the water would have to scale the fish for lunch. 

"-And she made it through the first stage without even grunting.", commented the assistant for this station.

The next step was taken almost as quickly by the young Marlow, who tiptoed forward, one after the other, on an elastic band no wider than ten or fifteen centimetres. She used her arms as a pendulum system while taking care to tighten her abdominal belt. Marlow had reached the end of the band without much difficulty and took a small leap to find the ground under some surprised looks from the tribunes.

The saying "don't sell the bear's skin before one has killed the beast" made sense at this point, the Career Tribes had considered her dead before the Hunger Games even began and now Marlow was proving to be much more agile than they had thought. These obstacle drills that required great concentration and slowness for them seemed to be a breeze for the female tribe in District 4.

The final course was the rope course, in which it required the tribe to first climb to the top of a vertically hung knotted rope and then climb up on a sort of grid of thinner ropes upside down. Marlow crossed her legs over the last knot, inspecting for a moment the nature of the ropes for the second part of the course. Their fineness diminished the grip, their head was upside down, and because of their shine, the ropes had certainly been coated with a slippery substance. Marlow would climb to the first row of ropes by sliding one of her legs into a square of ropes and fold it around to create a grip while her other foot would lean on the rope to allow her to push herself when she caught the next rope from the same one. She would repeat the process until the end of the grid, slowing the pace as she felt the rope slip from her palm while tightening the grip of her knee around the rope.

Marlow regained contact with the ground to the applause of a few tribunes, including the male tribe of District 8, the one that had been talking to her about beetles. She gave him a friendly smile before looking at the Career tribes, who were grumbling inconsistent words between them, Marius gave her a nasty look. Exactly what was needed to keep Marlow in a good mood for the whole day.

♚➳ . ✯♛

Finnick had not stopped praising her once Marlow had found him for her personal training with him, apparently he had passed a few supervisors on his way and had heard of the agility feats of his female tribe. In front of him, Marlow couldn't hold back her daring and satisfying smile because she had managed to hold the attention of some of the supervisors and perhaps that would earn her a good score in the evaluations, and later on from the generous sponsors who would take care of her in the Games. 

"- I understand why you did that, the tributes thought you were insignificant. You wanted to show them you were alive and well, that's good. It was necessary."

This was partly the reason why Marlow had acted in this way, but she had to admit that she had reacted mostly impulsively because her ego had touched. Or rather, her ego had been ripped out of her and dragged through the mud. She must have done something. Finnick approached her and leaned against the wall, just as she did, handing him a glass of wine, to which Marlow grimaced, saying that this wasn't how she saw her training. 

"- Drink while you still can." Finnick seemed rather amused by his conversation partner's reaction, "You've given yourself enough for today. Let's talk about your strategy instead."

She wouldn't disagree, her calves were already sufficiently stiffened by all the climbing she had done today. Marlow was curious to hear what Finnick was going to propose to her, she suspected that the chosen strategy would probably be the antithesis of Marius's since the latter was a wrestler and accompanied by the career tributes. Marlow conceded to soak her lips in the liquor before uttering a disgusting grunt that triggered a burst of laughter from her mentor. 

"- All right, no wine." he said, taking the glass from her hands under the disgusted grunts of the blonde, "What do the tribes think of you after today?" 

" - Um... That I can climb and I'm pretty agile? Not too slow."

" - Exactly, and they think you don't know how to use a weapon, at least a sword. And what we both want is for them to keep thinking that. Mags told me you've been holding the courier job since last year?", Marlow nodded, "So you're a lot faster than you let on. All right." He chuckled. 

Finnick finished the rest of his glass of wine in one go, he seemed pensive for a while and Marlow had to use violence to hold back his impatience, his need to extort more details about the strategy for his game. The mentor turned his face towards her and Marlow could only see the big half-pieced, half-mocking smile that Finnick used.

" - You're gonna work on your speed, just between us. You'll become the fastest in the arena, and you'll continue to make them think they have nothing to worry about. Marlow, when the time comes for you to fight in the arena, they will realize their mistakes that you should have been underestimated. " 

{ **Day 3** }

As agreed the day before with Finnick, Marlow would not repeat any exploits during the next few days of training and would be content to avoid disasters. She had planned to learn more about knots, a subject she knew the basics of, and the identification of edible insects. The trident expert had advised her to observe the weapons station and try to figure out which weapons Marlow could use to get the most out of the game. " _Observe, but not touch_." She felt like a child, but she was willing to bend to Finnick's every rule if it kept her alive.

The knotting station was a long way from the weapons station, and Marlow was glad to be free of the vindictive cries of the quarry tribesmen who practiced there. Moreover, she was alone to weave the knots she already knew and thus affirm her bases in peace and quiet. Marlow tapped on the electronic panel to follow the pattern of the "dog leg" knot when the tribute of District 8 joined her. Again. Alec. 

" - Would Miss Agility help me learn how to tie a knot?"   
" - And honor my District? Of course, I would. ", the blonde smiled slightly, "Which knot do you want to learn?" 

Alec hesitated for a moment without letting go of the friendly smile he had on when he spoke to him before simply replying that he wanted to learn a knot that could be useful in the arena. 

"-Can I teach you the capstan knot? It's used for mooring boats, but in the arena, you could use it to hold on to something? The trick with this knot is that if it becomes slack, it tends to slip and therefore come loose. To do that, you'd have to secure it with half a key."  
" - Do I have to pretend I understand this gibberish?" Alec asked, amused before Marlow took the string from his hands. 

Her little hands would be used for the demonstration, it was always easier to illustrate an explanation than to use words that might seem empty of meaning. At the same time, she explained to him her hands were showing the movement of the knot and that in order to make this type of knot it was important to always turn in the same direction. Marlow started with a dead turn around the bar, then " _the current crosses the sleeper over_ " making sure to turn in the same direction to " _form a key afterward by passing the current under itself_ " and to finish the knot " _just tighten by pulling the current and the sleeper at the same time_ ".

Alec mumbled that it was a child's play before asking Marlow if she would like to explain it to him again and that he would try to do it at the same time. After three attempts, Alec had achieved the desired result, and after five more attempts, his knot no longer slipped as he had managed to secure it with half a key as Marlow had advised him. It was nice to be able to spend some time with a tribute that didn't seem to want to take his eyes out, at least not show it. 


	7. five

ℛ𝓊𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒮𝒽ℴ𝓌

Today, the 24 tributes would be officially present in the Capitol's gratin and populace. They would be spied upon, some adulated and others quickly deemed irrelevant. Marlow was terribly anxious, a lump in her stomach that made her feel like she had swallowed a brick for breakfast. Leyphia hadn't been shy about pointing out that she looked bloated, and had even offered to give her a little "magic pill" to get rid of this unsightly swelling. Luckily Finnick had narrowly saved Marlow's life and she was eager to follow her mentor for her private workout. Since today's tributes were held on Capitol Amphitheater, there was no joint training and the schedule of individual sessions had been adjusted. After all, it was out of the question for the tribes to wander around in sweat in the old amphitheater.

She didn't have many days left to train and figure out which weapons Marlow could turn to. Marlow had confided her fears to her mentor at the beginning of the session, but Finnick didn't seem to mind and instead had fun trying to get her to lift his trident. Or rather: Finnick had come with an absolutely huge and beautiful trident, made of polished steel, and had thrown it to Marlow, simply shouting "catch". The tribute had clumsily grabbed the trident's handle before succumbing under the weight of the steel and falling to the ground. 

" - This thing is damn heavy!" 

It was almost unbelievable that Finnick could hold this weapon as if his weight weights no more than three grams, while Marlow had to muster all her strength to slide the trident from her torso to the ground. 

" - The scene was worth gold, love.", laughed the mentor before continuing, "I got an idea when I saw you handling the knives. Come here, I'll show you."

Finnick reached out his hand to help her up, picking up the trident with his free hand with incredible ease. He pulled a metal box from the table, not very high, and opened the two latches to reveal two weapons. To Marlow, it looked like a mix between knives and the heads of tridents. She was completely unfamiliar with this type of weapon and had never seen it in the weapons station.

"- Go ahead, try them on."

It was just ridiculous. It was almost as if Finnick offered to take off the last trendy pair of boots. He looked into her eyes, and Marlow knew he'd figured out what she was thinking. Nevertheless, the tribute grasped one of the twin weapons carefully at first and was soon surprised at the comfort of the grip. The metal pommel was covered with a black leather strap that would probably not irritate its owner's palm. 

"- It's called a sai. The main point of the sai is used to prick, to pierce the target. The side points, which certainly remind you of my trident, are curved from the main point and are used for cutting or slicing."

It was terribly unethical, but Finnick was sharing his knowledge with her about a weapon she might use to kill or prevent herself from being killed, and Marlow felt... excited. Excited at the idea of maybe having a chance, of handling a weapon that would be just for her and fit her. Perhaps the connivance of her mentor had something to do with it, Marlow felt for the first time since her arrival on Capitol Hill that Finnick saw something in her and could perhaps see her as a potential winner. Marlow needed this because in a few days she'd be thrown into the arena. 

" - You want to try it on the dummies?" 

Marlow pinched her lips to keep her calm and focused, hoping not to repeat the sword disaster. Finnick pushed her to the dummies with his big hands on the frail shoulders of his tribute, he assured her that she could do it.

Marlow took the time to familiarize herself with the weapon, to understand how to handle it with flexibility and dexterity, and soon Marlow felt ready for her great astonishment. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Finnick had not moved and that his green ocean gaze did not leave her sight. Marlow breathed in a long, long breath, aiming at the foam dummy before approaching it and extending his weapon until the main point touched the dummy's torso. She would gradually press down until the tip penetrated the foam to get a more concrete idea. Marlow then stepped back, tightening her grip around the pommel, and knocked the sai on the right shoulder of the dummy. This one fell straight to the ground. Marlow then sliced the foam neck horizontally and the second shoulder. The sai was twirling in his hand before Marlow stuck the gun in the mannequin's chest. 

"- I sum up: fast as a gazelle, agile and the sai has adopted you."

Marlow turned to meet her mentor's gaze, a glimmer that she couldn't really evaluate, but she had to admit that this weapon was effective and far from the monstrous manipulation she had had with swords. Finnick cleared the pieces of the dummy with the foot while suggesting that Marlow continue training and practice throwing them as well.

The private session ended an hour later when someone knocked on the door and the high-pitched voice of the hostess was heard saying that it was time for the tributes to go to the Transformation Center. Finnick replied without moving that Marlow was coming while signaling to Marlow to give him back the two weapons. Marlow put them away in the box, although she gauged them with her eyes, which obviously amused the mentor a lot. 

"- You wouldn't want Marius to find out your secret card, would you?" 

Finnick didn't give him time to answer, probably because he knew the answer anyway, and grabbed the tribute by the shoulders again to offer it to Leyphia's sharp claws. 

" - There, she's all yours."  
" - Thank you, handsome.", the hostess purred.  
  
  


♚➳ . ✯♛  
  


Cinq was attracting all the attention when he entered the block reserved for Marlow's beauty and preparation. The two giraffe neck assistants were letting go of the flu they had been exerting around Marlow's wrists, busy inspecting her carefully in case a hair had escaped them when they had turned her into a chicken a few days earlier. Cinq had swapped the Victorian wig for huge curls of the same sweet blue color. He was full of enthusiasm and shouted precise instructions as to the hairstyle he wanted to see on Marlow. Cinq snapped their fingers and the human giraffes were busy: one armed with a comb to torture the tribute's hair and the other brought back a cart with multiple objects of hair torture. 

" - The big day has come! How are you feeling, Marlow?" 

Cinq's gaze finally fell on her and he gave her a euphoric smile, it was absolutely ridiculous. The situation, the circumstances of his presence, everything. But Marlow wasn't about to lose her spit with those three Capitolians. 

" - So no fishnets today?" 

Cinq nodded with a small laugh as he clapped his hands, he seemed to be on a small cloud. The giraffe had finished smoothing the blonde locks and pulling them back under the scrupulous gaze of the stylist. The other giraffe took a jar of the unknown substance and coated it in her hair. 

" - I did some research and asked Finnick about the fish in your district. I found exactly what I was looking for."

Marlow just nodded her head because she had absolutely no idea what Cinq had in mind. He had sworn not to repeat the outfits from previous editions and to leave the nets in the cupboard, so what could he be up to? 

" - If I tell you about a mule, what do you think?"   
" - How delicious is it with cumin?" 

A fat laugh escaped from the tiny throat of the stylist who was enthused by the humor of the tribute to the two giraffes. He tapped his bluish fingernail on the tip of Marlow's aquiline nose, refuting her proposal, although he added that he would love to taste it.

The team preferred to keep it a secret apparently since Cinq had fun tying a blindfold around his eyes, taking care not to damage his hair. The instructions of Cinq were the last words spoken until the end of the preparations: "arms and legs apart remain motionless as long as possible". Marlow hated not being able to watch what the two giraffes were doing, and only to feel the hands waving around. She could feel something hanging over her naked body, something small and in several pieces. The touch was cold on her skin, but she couldn't guess more. After at least an hour, someone had crouched down in front of her and woven something around her waist. 

" - Don't I get a clue?"   
  


Marlow received no response to her discontent, but she didn't dare to complain for fear that it was one of the giraffes kneeling down and that the giraffe would preach to her by sticking the needle in her thigh. After what seemed like an eternity, Marlow was covered with a foam bathrobe firmly tied around her waist and finally Cinq removed her headband with a mischievous smile despite her concentrated look. 

" - Soon to be ready. All that's left is the makeup. I'll get your shoes."

Luckily the make-up took much less time than her costume and one of the giraffes was particularly soft. Marlow was looking at the material on the cart and saw mostly neutral shades with a few pastel blue and purple shades. Crazy curls appeared again in her field of vision, and Marlow stared at the shoes that Cinq was holding in her hands. She was amazed at their simplicity, but she liked it very much. The shoes were elegant, thin, and silvery, but most of all they were breathtaking. Marlow was hoping not to lose her balance and wallow in front of the audience.

The assistant rested his brushes on the cart with a satisfied expression and moved back close to the wall. Cinq slipped behind her, placing his hands in front of Marlow's eyes, telling her to take five long strides and swing to her right. An extra pair of hands took off his robe while Cinq cheerfully whispered that it was time for the revelation.

Ow. It was hardly if Marlow recognized her reflection, she was almost certain that the mirror was fake. Marlow reflected the appearance of a sea creature that had just emerged from the water with her hair still wet and her complexion shiny, even her eyelids still seemed wet. Her body was particularly exposed, but her anatomy was brilliantly camouflaged. It now included the reference to the fish, the mullet, because the upper part of her body was covered with small scales. The scales were numerous around her chest before being scattered on her upper shoulders and dissipating along her arms, abdomen, and hips. The last scales on her hip bones were sewn to a fine cloth, but opaque to the color of her skin. 

" - Finnick told me that the mules had the brightest scales, so naturally I wanted to copy them.", the stylist confided in the hollow of Marlow's ear.

Marlow stammered something as she nodded her head, unable to tear her gaze from the mirror because she had to admit it: the giraffes had done a remarkable job. Cinq, of course, had done an even more miraculous job of barely dressing her body without her being naked or vulgar for all that. On the contrary, Marlow was just... 

" - Bewitching, my dear. If that's the word you were looking for."  
" - So that when you scratch a little, your face isn't so bad.", confided one of the giraffes.   
" - The spectators will come to dream that mermaids exist.", completed the second.  
  


The tributes are led down from the Transformation Center into what looked like a gigantic stable. The opening ceremony was about to begin. The tributes boarded two by two in wagons drawn by four slender horses so well trained that they could do without a coachman. Marlow and Cinq were soon joined by one of the giraffes, and Marius, the latter had not been given such a sumptuous costume as Marlow's. That's good. She could not help but appreciate that her traitorous comrade was dressed in a sailor's suit. Of course, this costume had been reworked because it was well known that sailors were never that elegant when they went to sea, but obviously Marlow was the element on which Cinq had set his sights. 

" - What happened to the fishing nets?" 

That voice behind them was Finnick's voice. There was no doubt about that. He approached their float by giving his arm to Mags, out of good manners, and not because the female mentor needed it. Mags greeted Marius by placing his hand on his arm and helping him into the char. 

"- I have to say that I was not expecting this at all when Cinq asked me to talk about mules. Marlow, you're really..."  
" - Beautiful, wonderful, sumptuous... ", suggested Cinq, who intruded into the conversation.   
" - Resplendent.", Finnick said before complimenting the designer's craftsmanship. 

Mags gently stroked Marlow's cheek before reaching out her hand to help her get into the char as well. Only now Marlow noticed that the tank had also been given a makeover and was covered with ropes to give the impression of a boat. The opening music resounded at the same time as the massive doors opened and unveiled streets lined with crowds. It was impressive and repulsive at the same time. The journey took about 20 minutes before the procession reached the ancient amphitheater and the pearls of the Capitol.

  
With trembling hands, Marlow grasps the rope in front of her to give herself some restraint and avoid falling off the float, perched on heels too high for her. The crowd whistled loudly as they passed by, sending kisses and flowers. Such a reaction astonished the two tributes who clung a little harder to the thick rope, seeing the courtyard of the amphitheater before them. The train slid from Marlow's ankles to twirl behind her, uncovering her tapered legs that gave her some hungry looks and Marlow had to suppress the urge to pull on the fabric, but she knew she could trust the work of Cinq.

Walking past the President's rostrum was particularly intimidating and reminded the tribes that they were there only to experience death in a few days' time. If Marlow had been looking at him at the head of the procession, from now on she was careful to hide her terrified gaze in the direction of the horses. The carriage stops in front of President Snow's tribute and while the tanks from the other Districts do not join the ranks, the Capitolians continue to chant the first names of certain tribes. Mostly from the Career Districts, but Marlow manages to hear hers several times and a glimmer of hope born in her heart.

  
The silence was king and the faces of the tribes disappeared from the display screens to make way for the President. It was customary that absolute silence reigned when Coriolanus Snow took the floor and began his speech for the games. The national anthem marked the end of a gloomy speech for each tribe, but joyful in the ears of the Capitol, and the tanks set off again to take the opposite path. The display screens were battling between several tribes: the tank from the first two Districts, the girl from District Nine in a silver corset, and on top of her. On Marlow. At the end of the trip, the screen no longer bothered to show the image of District Nine and Two in order to linger on the duo from District One and particularly on Marlow. She blushed violently, still struggling to recognize the enchanting silhouette she saw on the screen. Cinq had done wonders.


	8. six

##  𝒯𝒽ℯ ℒ𝒶𝓈𝓉 ℐ𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓋𝒾ℯ𝓌

The days were shrinking at a rapid pace, far too fast for the tributes who would have liked to be granted a few more days of life. It was well known that the Capitol never gave anyone a choice. Marlow had come to wonder if the games were not influenced by the Capitol except for genetic mutations, were the games rigged from the start or did Marlow have a chance of getting away with it? At least hope to. Training with Finnick gave her a lot of confidence, especially since Finnick gave her a lot of survival advice based on his own games and all the games he had witnessed as a mentor. Marlow's best hope was still the saïs, but it was still necessary for the Capitol to provide the Cornucopia with some, or for the sponsors to be generous enough to offer her these weapons.  


In the meantime, Marlow tried to learn as much as she could in supervised training. The female tribute had gone through every training session on the basics of survival: edible plants, edible insects, how to find shelter, and how to hunt. She should be able to set bait because of her good knot skill, and now that she had been attentive to the training, she should find the right places to set her traps and not get poisoned.

"- Pay attention with'at, it cuts. "

Marlow raised her head off her knives to meet the mocking gaze of District 1's female tribute, Ruby. Her piercing gaze revealed nothing but pure mockery, Ruby was staring at her from the axe station and now that she had Marlow's attention, she was having fun twirling the axe in the air before grabbing it by the handle. If the goal was to intimidate Marlow... Well, it was successful.

" - Our priority in the arena: Avoid the Careers. "

After three days of training, Marlow had taken the plunge and was no longer jumping at Alec's impromptu appearances at her side. She still didn't understand him, but once again she didn't need to try to understand her opponents, she just had to survive as best she could.

"- Our?

\- Well, why not? "he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Marlow watched him for a moment, frowning, was this a request to be an ally? Why on earth would he want to be allied with her? In any case, Alec didn't seem to be waiting for an answer and grabbed a knife from among those Marlow had chosen. He was from the Textile Industry District, one of the fastest and most frequently killed districts.

" - You think too much. I can see smoke coming out of your ears.", Alec put the knive back on the set, meeting his counterpart's gaze, " Why not? We're no threat to anyone: me, District 8, and you... Everyone remembers your little sword show.

\- What about it? Together, we could be a little more of a threat?

\- Maybe, but at least we could have each other's backs. Look, we don't know each other. I'm all for that, but... but you like to have certain values that most of the tribes here miss so badly."

This proposal was worth thinking about, Marlow would feel much less alone with an ally in the arena since she no longer had her District mate, but as Alec had said so well: they didn't know each other. What was to prove to her that Alec wouldn't stab her in the back once he felt safe enough or that it was a vile plan concocted with his District partner Leigh-Anne?

"-Give me your decision tonight. With my mentor, I went up to the roof of the building with her. It's allowed, but not very well known. But it's discreet. We could talk about it up there, if you'd like?"

  


♚➳ . ✯♛

Stripped of the sweat of her private training, Marlow had crawled out of the Fourth District apartment and headed for the elevator. She was a little anxious to venture out of the apartment, although nothing could really happen to her since there were Peacekeepers at every possible exit and Alec had said she was allowed to take the elevator to the roof. Marlow wasn't sure why she'd agreed to believe him, and was just trying to get to the roof. It wasn't really a matter of trust, Marlow didn't have much to lose. She had been chosen for the 72nd edition of the Games and in two days time she would enter the arena. Marlow was already being punished for any future sins she might have chosen to commit.

A barely feminine voice resounded in the elevator shaft promising the tribute to be taken to the sixtieth floor, the roof. Capitol Hill technology continued to impress Marlow, more than she would have liked. It took only a minute or two for the elevator to open its doors at the desired location. It was impressive.

Marlow cautiously ventured out of the metal cage, encountering the brutality of the fresh air against her face. It was the first time since her arrival at the Capitol that she could "get out" and breathe the fresh air. It was confusing to find a bit of naturalness in this world polluted by the superficial, but Marlow saw no resemblance to the sea air of her District.

" - You came! I wasn't sure you'd come."

The blond head was startled when his voice rang out even though she knew he was there, after all it was he who had offered her the invitation. Marlow chewed the inside of her cheek, wishing to not be surprised so easily and to have more control over herself.

"I wasn't sure either."

She folded her arms around her terry cloth bathrobe and walked towards him. Alec moved back a little and tapped the iron support to get her to sit in it. Marlow understood why the Peacekeepers let the tributes go to the roof, there were boundaries with wires that would deter anyone from jumping.

"It's different here... quieter.

\- There's no microphones on the roof. My mentor, Cecelia, showed me the place. "

Microphones. Marlow had always suspected that there were bugs in the apartment, in her bedroom, and in the training room. There was no doubt about it, but Marlow still managed to be surprised.

She watched Alec for a moment: the serious look on his face, the slight curls twirled over his head before he turned towards her. Alec seemed to be searching for his words and couldn't seem to find them, so Marlow helped him a little.

"- What are you afraid of? Once in the arena.

\- I'm afraid to die, of course. I'm not sure I can face their looks... "The blonde's questioning look must have been quite visible as Alec continued his thought after a few moments, "The look of a victim, you know, at the moment when...

\- Watching them die.

-I don't know if I can do it. It's not like we have a choice, I know we'll have to kill and I know I would. But I'm afraid to watch them die."

Marlow understood. She understood only too well, this fear came to haunt her every night as well. Alec was right, she would have to kill and she would kill to hope to get out alive to join her family, but she feared that life would disappear from a tribute that Marlow would attack. The boy's granular skin looked pale now, the Moon was shining a blinding light on them.

"- I'm afraid to change. I'm afraid the Games will change me forever, and alter me into something I am not."

And what could they do about it? Absolutely nothing. Entering the arena and taking the life of a complete stranger just to survive changed man. And Marlow was scared to death of changing and becoming a bloodthirsty monster.

"- As an ally, don't let me become like Titus."

Titus was a winner of the Games who had eaten his victims to the point of becoming bloodthirsty and having an endless desire for raw meat. This Titus represented everything that Marlow abhorred.

♚➳ . ✯♛

Cinq busy around the young blond girl, singing a typical Capitolian air that sizzled in Marlow's ears, yet Marlow made no comment. The stylist was far too enthusiastic for Marlow not to let her down by moping around and showing her how much she dreaded this interview with Caesar Flickerman. The star Capitol host, who has been hosting the Games for more than 30 years, is likely to be as extravagant as every new edition. Marlow never doubted for a second that Caesar would get her to talk, he seemed to have a knack for it, and he always managed to turn tribal responses into positive sentences for Capitol. Marlow knew that her fate would not be much different from the other tributes, but she would have to bring something distinctive if she was to capture the attention of the sponsors.

For visuals, Marlow relied on Cinq with her eyes closed. She had seen the miracles he was capable of with his enchanting dress for the opening ceremony of the Games, she still didn't understand how Cinq had managed to transform her into this wonderful mythical creature. For the interview, she knew that the designers tended to play with frills, sequins and bright colours to keep the tribute etched in the memories of the spectators. Cinq was either singular or he wanted to play the game because he didn't propose anything too extravagant. He had sewn him a short black dress in the blazer style, it was very elegant and uncluttered, far from the Capitol's trends. Maybe that's why Marlow liked Cinq's work so much, it allowed her to be beautiful while keeping a little bit of herself.

" - Remember the scales on the mule?"

Marlow nodded her head knowing that this dress was still too simple for her stylist, she knew she still had something left to discover besides these silver pumps. Cinq grabbed her hand to bring her to the mirror and he didn't need to say any more, the dress spoke for itself. The V-neck of the dress was distorted: a tiny transparent elastane veil reflected the crystals of the mule's shiny scales, a reminder with his ceremonial dress. Depending on movement, the crystals shone in the light and enhanced Marlow's minimalist black dress, perched on silver heels.

"It's a beautiful Cinq. Again."

The giraffe duo entered the stage to complete the work of Cinq and shared many compliments on the designer's artistic genius. Marlow swapped smiles with them for the first time and let them do so obediently. The overall result was admirable and perfected Cinq's concept with her blonde hair moistened and pulled back, a light complexion that gave the illusion that Marlow was coming out of the water. It was only her eyes that were highlighted with a little dark smoke on the eyelids.

Marlow was pushed into the line with the other tributes to wait for the presenter to call them one by one, fortunately Marlow had been able to pass Finnick before he went into the room to observe his tributes. His mentor looked confident and Marlow was trying to adopt the same attitude.

" - Marlow Sylverëe!" the announcer announced into the microphone.

Marlow was - literally - pushed on stage by a stage manager and managed to keep her balance by a miracle, she could have twisted her ankle or stuck the heel of one of the pumps in the TV set. A catastrophic result that she narrowly avoided without knowing how. The presenter came up to her with his square, sparkling white smile, grabbed her hand delicately and kissed her. Marlow's head was spinning while she was facing so much hypocrisy, half blinded by the spotlight and Caesar's carnivorous smile.

" -Welcome home, dear. You're absolutely CHAR-MING! Aren't you? Aren't you? "The crowd agreed with the presenter in the silver and grey headdress.

The applause was overwhelming, further stunning Marlow, who was sitting in the chair when Caesar finally deigned to let go of her hand. The young woman's amber eyes wandered through the crowd, only to meet curious and cheerful faces. The noise then fell back, giving way to an awkward silence that Caesar did not take care to fill, which drew the attention of the tribute who wondered why he did not... Oh. Marlow smiled a slight embarrassed smile and mumbled something that sounded like a thank you. Caesar gave her another white smile and crossed her legs, ready to begin the interview.

" - We're a long way from fishing nets this year. What do we have here? An elegant young woman in a black dress, a bit common we might think, but your stylist has made sure to dazzle us. What's this?

\- It's, uh... It's, uh... It's a reproduction of the mule scales. A fish from my District known for its shiny skin.

\- You're shiny, sparkling, glistening, luminous, ... Aren't you?"

The spectators exchanged a few laughs, delighted at the beginning of this interview and to be able to glance at the young Sylverëe. It was a real entertainment for the Capitol's inhabitants who never missed an edition of the Games and all the preparations that it entailed. Caesar was bathed in the euphoria of the spectators and Marlow became anxious. She was supposed to be the one receiving the attention and not the presenter, he wasn't the one who was going to be thrown into the arena tomorrow. Her voice, which had previously been quavering, rose above the enraptured cries of the crowd:

" - These are the same scales as on my dress for the opening ceremony.

\- Oh... So it is a concept! Can we know more? A small detail that might have been missed by the spectators of the ceremony? "Marlow nodded as she leaned over to him, adopting the same air of confidence

"- Cinq wished to turn me into a sea creature. Although my dress was made of mule scales, it represents a mythical creature...

\- Oh say no more, my dear. Is it... a mermaid? ", Marlow nodded her head, uttering a delighted smile from the announcer and the general surprise of the crowd quickly followed by enthusiastic shouts., "And today the mermaid returns to us in the land of the humans, does she not?"

The concept had been only weakly defined by Cinq, and at the time Marlow hadn't given a damn. All she wanted was to look presentable, get sponsors and have the ceremony over as quickly as it had started. But now she realized that this concept was what made her stand out from the crowd and captivated the spectators. Caesar himself seemed delighted and appreciated the idea of having a mermaid on his set.

"- Mermaids are enchanting creatures with their elegant and gentle physique, but formidable warriors below the water's surface... Marlow Sylverëe! May the odds be your favour!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next : the arena, are you ready? ._.
> 
> The title of this story is finally lightly explained in the discussion between Alec and Marlow.


	9. The Arena

This game's been played before

Seventy-three times won

The faster you die the faster you lose

Life's the prize for one

Children wielding weapons, cutting short a life

Cameras see it all

But were they enemies, or were they friends?

Gotta make it through somehow

_The arena_

_The arena_

_This is our world stage_

_The arena_

_The arena_

_This is our death cage_

_Cannons in the distance, the distance silver parachutes descend_

_You've been spared for now, but for how long?_

_When will all this end?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original song: https://youtu.be/pwZdGfmN9Ow


	10. seven

𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓾𝓬𝓸𝓹𝓲𝓪

{Marlow POV}

Tʜɪs ɢᴀᴍᴇ's ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ, Sᴇᴠᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴡᴏɴ { **Jour 1** }

My stomach aches kept getting worse as the hour of entering the arena approached, never had six days gone by so quickly. My brother, Newt, always used to tell me that it feels like the days go by faster when we are in good company and having fun. This week does not fit into any sphere of fun, let alone a good company. Maybe Newt should add a clause to this saying, something like "your last days will pass at the speed of light without you being able to enjoy them".

" - How do you feel?"

I didn't have to turn my head to recognize the person who had just walked into that kind of waiting room. It was my mentor, who had come to deliver his last piece of advice before one of his tributes ended up dead in the arena. Finnick was now at my level and silently watching me, for once his eternal mischievous smile was out of place on his face. I guess it couldn't have been that easy to be a mentor: greeting two people from your District, trying to give them the best advice before sending them to the slaughterhouse, and watching them die. No doubt Finnick had better things to do than mentor.

"- I feel smeared, tense and I've... very scared."

My voice betrayed how my fear was heightened, stronger than the fear I had felt at the Reaping and in my contact with the other tributes. When I arrived, I didn't think I had any chance of survival at the start of the Games, but now, thanks to Finnick's many tips and training sessions, I had enough hope to convince myself that I might, perhaps, survive for a few days. I had to hold on to that hope if I really wanted to live and see my family again.

"- That's normal. I could barely stand on my own two feet that day."

Finnick's hand on my shoulder was comforting despite my persistent nausea, it was reassuring to know that it was only human to feel on the verge of passing out and to struggle to hold on to the basics: breathing slowly and advancing one foot after the other to the overboard. His gaze straight out of the most beautiful ocean paintings gave me a little more confidence as if Finnick was assuring me that I could get through despite the cruelty of the Games and the predators that would be there.

"- Remember, your priority is to find shelter and a place to hide. Use your brain and speed in face-to-face situations. "He took a deep breath and continued, "I'll make sure you get what you need. I believe in you, Marlow."

My breath would get stuck in my throat for a moment before I could catch my breath again as I tried to push away the horrible scenarios that might be waiting for me in the arena. Finnick had won his Games at the age of fourteen, proving himself to be a formidable opponent with his strength, agility, speed, charm and cunning, so if this mentor thought I could do it, he was giving me the illusion that I could do it. Able to stay alive.

The Peacekeeper near the gate called Finnick to tell us it was time to say goodbye and find my place among the other tribes on the Capitol plane. It didn't take much longer for my members to start shaking and for me to fail again, I wanted to think of a way to get out of here and especially not to get on the plane. Unfortunately, there was no way out except to win the seventy-second edition of the Games.

"- Try to keep a cool head as much as possible, as you do during your training, okay? "I could barely nod my head, preferring to press my head against my mentor's chest as the ultimate comfort, "Marlow... above all, avoid Marcus in the arena at all costs."

Finnick briefly hugged me to this sordid reminder that my District counterpart wanted to kill me for a reason that seemed to go beyond the Games. Next to us, the Peacekeeper was getting impatient again so Finnick gently pushed me away and gave me one last smile, a real and hopeful one.

♚➳ . ✯♛

There was one last step before entering the arena, in addition to having his forearm pricked for the needs of the Games. It was certainly so that the organizers would be able to track us and determine when we were finally dead. It was all very charming. After landing, each tribute was brought to a similar small room whose walls reminded me of the walls of the washrooms. Immediately I saw the uniform hanging on a coat hanger and my stomach was painfully constricted again. These are the clothes I would wear when I died.

" - Marlow. My little mermaid, should I say?"

The surprise quickly dissipated when I saw the smiling face of Cinq, I didn't know that he would be present and even if he was particularly atypical, I was quite happy to see him. To see another familiar face that had helped me since my arrival at the Capitol. I was sketching a fine smile when I noticed that Cinq had taken care to gather his blue hair in the same braided bun as mine, a clear sign that he was trying to show me his support. The thought was so empathetic, I was surprised because he was still a citizen of Capitol and an active member of the Games Committee, yet he was showing his support in his own way. Cinq untied the uniform from the hanger and handed it to me as I was getting undressed, he helped me quickly put it on before the countdown started.

"- This suit is made mostly of neoprene if I can trust the fabric, which is only slightly thicker than 10 millimeters. Around the bust, it looks like there's an extra layer of polyurethane. "Cinq motioned to me to turn around to continue his analysis before revealing his thoughts, "These are the main materials used by divers. So I'd say you have to expect large bodies of water or large temperature variations. Maybe both."

I was trying to assimilate the information quickly: water was the element of my District and I was used to it; temperature variations worried me a little more. The arena could plunge us into an extreme cold and then make us sweat, which would lead to immediate dehydration. I absolutely had to find water as soon as the Games started. Cinq would help her pull up the zipper on my chest and then put on the thermoplastic sneakers. Generally speaking, the suit was a plain royal blue with long sleeves and my legs were covered up to my ankles. There was a slight gap between my ankles and the edge of the shoes, but apart from that, my body was completely covered up to my neck by a _col de l'officier_.

{ **Arena** }

Sucked through the airtight tube, the ceiling opened above my head in a blinding light. With my eyes closed, I first felt a light breeze waving a few tired strands of my braided bun and carefully opened my eyes to discover the arena. My breath stuck in my throat again, but not out of fear this time. Rather because the arena was really beautiful. The Cornucopia was standing several meters in front of me in a dazzling green meadow, it was hard to believe that this was unnatural. The sun was shining and enveloping us in a heavy heatwave, my neck was already getting wet.

_Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, ..._

I stood on a narrow block and was thankful that I had small feet, it was the first time I had ever been satisfied with their size. According to the previous Games, those who left the block too early exploded immediately and I had no desire to die from the flames. The countdown was as noisy as the anguished beating of my heart, but I tried to keep a cool head, as Finnick had advised me to do. I used the seconds I had left to get acquainted with the arena.

_Seven, six, five, four..._

Apart from the circle of greenery which delimited the Cornucopia, the arena was divided in two in perfect symmetry and offered on both sides a rather similar landscape: a lake whose water was certainly quite deep, then on the left one reached directly a section of fir trees, while on the right there was a field of dwarf yellow spruces to be crossed first, and finally, there was a rocky massif which could be seen in the background of the fir trees.

_Three, two..._

Inhale, exhale. Breathing in, breathing out. I just had to follow the plan: gather my thoughts and energy, get ready to jump off the islet as soon as the cannon sounded, and run with great strides. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. I could do it. I could do it. I was a natural-born runner, delivering information from port to port in record time. I could do it. I could escape the bloodbath of the Horn. I could... 

_One._

The cannon shot was stunning and sounded up into my ribcage, but I didn't forget the plan. I leaped out of the block almost immediately and ran through the grass at great speed, as fast as I could, and with every step, I doubled my speed as much as I could. My lungs warmed up, my heartbeat buzzed in my ears, but I didn't slow down. This was not the time to weaken. I only had a few more meters to go, a few toe presses to do when I finally reached the Cornucopia. I hoisted myself over the metal rim to slip inside the armament den and without wasting any time I grabbed a belt of knives and a machete. As I suspected, there was no saiga available. I hurried to leave the Cornucopia from the side just as some of the Career tributes joined it, it was a close call and that was enough to motivate me. I redoubled my efforts to reach the right bank as quickly as possible, hoping that no tribute had grabbed a weapon and targeted me.

Footsteps approached mine on my right, and my fear returned immediately before my eyes met those of my ally, Alec. When we were close enough, I threw the weapon I had retrieved for him and he grabbed the machete in mid-air. We entered the water, acknowledging that the first part of our plan had worked. It would appear that my speed was not fatal to us. Alec helped me get out of the water quickly and we hurried along with the yellow spruces to the green fir forest. Alec was leading the way, machete in hand and in front of him, and I was trotting along behind him as fast as I could despite my shortness of breath. I finally noticed the backpack hanging loosely from his left shoulder and tightened the belt I had found in my hands. We hadn't had time to get properly equipped, the backpack was barely hanging over his shoulder and I hadn't yet fastened the belt around my hips, but we had weapons and a backpack.

"-I wonder what's in the bag. I hope you got lucky.", I murmured cautiously and also because I was out of breath.

As we climbed the fir hill, we decided to stop when we found a stopping point that might be obscured by the trees or some rocks, or else we would climb a tree. The second option was not Alec's strong point and I doubted I had enough strength in my legs to climb high enough. I had no sense of time, but we had been walking and groping for at least an hour or two. A little rest would not be out of the question.

After another half hour, according to Alec, we had finally found some semblance of shelter in a green moss ditch camouflaged by a tree that was almost lying down. We weren't perfectly concealed, but it was a bit tricky to crawl under the tree to come and execute us, so it wasn't that bad.

♚➳ . ✯♛

Panem's hymn took us by surprise as we went through the items in the backpack that Alec had managed to grab in his race to join me. I hadn't even noticed the backpack, and thank goodness Alec was there. The bag wasn't full of treasures, but it was better than nothing. There was a gourd (empty of course), a few matches, a sleeping bag (very generous), and two cereal bars.

The hymn began again by displaying the tributes that had died on that first day, following the order of the Districts. My first thought was about Marcus, I doubted that he would be present in the count, but I could not help hoping so. The list began with Thor from the fifth, the two tributes from the sixth, Lamia from the ninth, those from District ten, Swing from the eleventh, and finally Arum from District twelve.

" - Eight dead. ", I counted aloud

" - Leigh-Anne isn't on the list."

Alec's District counterpart was not on the list, his facial expression showed relief and I could understand him somehow. From what I understood, she and Alec had gone to school together and had developed a good relationship as classmates. It was always harder to deal with the death of someone you know than with the death of a stranger.

"- Marlow, if we ran into her I wouldn't be able to ... Well, you know.

\- Yeah, I get it. I get it. I get it. I get it. I get it. We'll try to avoid her as much as possible. ", I promised him before falling asleep. 

Tʜᴇ ғᴀsᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀsᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏsᴇ { **Day 2** }

It was stunning to wake up in the arena and not be able to determine how long Alec and I had slept. One thing was certain, the makeshift shelter we had found had not revealed our position, or the other tributes had not ventured as far as we had.

Next to me, Alec was still sleeping, machete against him and legs bent in the fetal position. Slowly I tapped his thigh, whispering his name, and then slowly straightened up. My neck was a little numb despite the fact that I had used the backpack as a pillow, but it was only time to wake up my body. At least, I assumed so.

"- What a wonderful night. ", mumbled my ally, grumpy when he woke up.

We took the time to wake up properly and stretch before discussing the next part of our survival plan and daring to get out of our hiding place. We had to find water first and then set a few traps so we could hope to have something to sink our teeth into by tonight, in the hope that we would still be alive by then.

As Cinq had predicted, the climate varied drastically: during the day it was overwhelmingly hot and stifling, while temperatures during the night were very cold. In addition to being dehydrated, we were probably going to catch terrible flu. Exactly what we need in this arena of misery. So it was our wet backs that took us down to the river.

Alec wasn't surprised to see that the shore was already populated and motioned for me to stop behind him. From the edge of the fir trees, we could see two figures chatting with great agitation while holding an object that looked like a bottle.

"- They must probably decide which one of them will test the water of this river. ", Alec whispered to me.

Not stupid. Especially for us, we only needed our eyes to determine whether drinking from the east river was a good idea or not. I squinted a little more before recognizing that these were the partners of District 7: Pliny and Albizia. These two tributes were still enemies, but they were a little less dangerous than Career tributes. The two of us could defend ourselves against them if they spotted us and decided to attack us.

Fortunately, that was not the case. After Pliny drank from the bottle and was still alive after a semblance of fifteen minutes, the two tributes had refilled the bottle and set off towards the fir trees on a path opposite ours. Alec and I nodded our heads before coming out of the shadows. With machete in hand in a defensive posture, Alec stood behind me as we both advanced towards the shore. I took the canteen from the backpack my ally was carrying and began to fill it while Alec stood to watch. It was a quick operation and as soon as it was over we turned back and stood guard.

♚➳ . ✯♛

In the arena, night had recently fallen and so had the temperature. Alec and I were back in our natural shelter after collecting a few tiny rodents from our traps. We had lit a small fire a few miles east of the shelter to reduce the risk of getting caught and now we were finally getting our first meal since the day before. Almost thirty-two hours without eating, which meant we were starving.

"- I never thought I'd say that eating rodents would be so delicious.

\- We've fallen very low. "Alec joked as he sucked on the bone.

Panem's hymn soon rang out as a beam of light rose into the sky, it was time to count the dead. Sitting side by side, almost pressed together to keep us warm, we looked apprehensively at the billboard. I had no idea of any outcome that would look good and positive to me, after all, no matter how many tributes were left, I was still in danger as was Alec. Just like any tribe. That second day took the lives of two tributes: Albizia whom we had seen near the shore and the male tribute from District 12.


	11. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for this awaited chapter, I am still working on my thesis and trying not to die with this unbearable hot weather. I hope you are all well and do not forget to hydrate ourselves. Let me know what you thought of this shorter chapter.

A ᴛʀᴇᴇ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ, ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏs ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ.

A new day in the arena where time seemed to run both quickly and slowly. This paradox sent me back to a feeling of insecurity that I hoped to control for a few more days.

"- I have absolutely no idea. And you, have you ever tasted the seaweed bread from my District?"

Alec and I had begun a discussion about typical District foods, trying to describe the exact taste to each other. Talking about food was certainly not an excellent idea given that the arena did not provide food in abundance and every outing to set traps was dangerous. Nevertheless, Alec decided to pursue the subject further by explaining to me that the grandmothers in his neighborhood used to collect unsold bread from the bakery on weekends and turn it into French toast. Alec said he loved it, despite its unsavory appearance, and even swore to me that I had to "absolutely taste it".

Conversations with Alec were light and sometimes disturbing. The finality was never mentioned, leaving us dreaming of a possible and potential future for one of the tributes. For one of us. It made me want to believe in a victory, and I wanted to believe in his possible victory. At least if it wasn't me, it would be him. We were promised to take care of each other's family if one of us was to be the winner of this umpteenth edition of the Games.

" - That's strange. The trap was set. "

Alec's voice called out to me and my eyes immediately sought the knot of the trap we had laid the day before. I was the one who had tied the trap around the roots of the bush, I knew I had done it correctly, but the strings were hanging softly on the ground. It didn't look good to me, on the contrary. I pushed back the bushes to inspect the knot before I finally understood when I saw the knot clearly sealed around the roots and the cut ends on the ground: sabotage.

" - 'Low, get down! "Alec shouted at me.

I had no time to think, I obeyed Alec's order and threw myself to the ground, almost trying to escape. I slid my head to the side, enough to see two figures run towards us.

" - Quickly, run. "

I leap to my feet as quickly as I can, one hand on the knife belt I was wearing all the time. Alec had his machete in hand, ready to defend himself.

" - Run, run. That excites me more! " shouted a male voice behind us.

Alec was helping me up to the top of the little hut, and I took the opportunity to watch who was running. Did we have a chance? No, we don't. Two tributes from the Career Alliance formation and Marius were following us. I recognized the girl with no trouble at all, it was Ruby of the One. The one who made fun of her on the last day of practice and made sure I witnessed her excellent ax-playing.

" - We need to distance them. The other three can't be far away. "

There was no need to parley about it, Alec and I were in agreement. We set off straight ahead, hoping to reach the edge of the green fir trees, praying that the Quarries would not be established in the depths of those trees and that they would not try to escape from them. The wind accompanied Ruby's enthusiastic laughter, mingling with the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat in my ears.

An arrow passed us on the left and smashed against a rock, and Alec thanked us for our incredibly good fortune. He took the opportunity to push me to the ground so that we could finish the descent on our buttocks, faster and safe from the arrows thrown by Sven du Deux.

♚➳ . ✯♛

I had never felt as alive as I do now: legs trembling, sweat on my forehead, shortness of breath ... We had just come close to death; we could barely stand up after that crazy race to escape the two tribes of the Quarry Districts.

" - I don't know what angel we owe our survival, but he made it happen. We could have run into the other three on the way down here. "

I nodded my head, thankful that I was lucky enough not to be caught by Marius, Diamond and Jasmine trying to escape from their two companions. This unwanted encounter left us no choice but to abandon our portion of the territory and join the yellow spruce bench. We would now be between two branches of the arena, which could prove beneficial as well as tragic.

" - Let's keep putting as much distance between them and us, then we'll stop for a while. Let's keep putting so many distances between us and them, and then we'll stop for a while," I suggested to him that I had only one desire, that of collapsing to the ground.

The night was beginning to fall when Alec and I decided to finally stop to regain our strength, we had almost reached the edge of the yellow fir trees and we doubted that the Quarry had chosen to chase us so low. The ambush of these tribes had ruined our meal for the day and we didn't have the time or the audacity to stop on the way to lay more animal traps. I could hear my counterpart's stomach protesting starvation and mine was contracting in unison. It was imperative that tomorrow we could find food in the spruce forest or starvation would take our lives. In the meantime, Alec broke the cereal bar provided in the backpack in half and handed me a half, wishing me the best appetite in the whole arena.

The count of the dead would soon appear in this starless sky, it would soon be dark enough for the faces of the tribes to be projected. So far, we had counted 14 tribes in all. Alec and I simply had to avoid 12. It was no small task if we looked back at our meeting a few hours earlier.

A shrill scream broke through the quiet of the evening and took my eyes off the sky. My start did not equal Alec's, but I was still frightened. The scream echoed around us, enveloping us in a strange and anxiety-provoking atmosphere. My saliva refused to go down my throat, just as my fingers refused to relax around my knife belt. An umpteenth scream, just as piercing, resounded and it was then that I realized that we were not so much of a tribute. With my free hand, I tried to grab the lapel of Alec's suit to silently tell him that we had to get away as quickly as possible.

" - Leigh-Anne! "

My hand slipped against the cloth, Alec dodged my grip and rushed forward shouting the name of his District partner. My instincts were screaming at me not to take a step, not to follow him headlong, and that nothing assured me that this was not just another plot. My feet obeyed my instincts, sunken in the earth, while my eyes watched Alec's silhouette diminish in size as he sank into the spruce forest.

I opened my mouth, swallowed a mouthful of oxygen, and gathered the amount of confidence I had in Alec to get my feet off the ground and set off in pursuit of him. I refrained from shouting his name, the idea wasn't to bring back the Career tribes that we'd struggled to sow a few hours earlier. My legs quickened the movement, my strides became more flexible and longer while my stomach twisted a little more under the worry. Soon Alec would be at hand and I would not hesitate to pull him with all my strength out of the way, he could not rush headlong into danger. Not after what we'd been through in three days.

My fingers closed behind his back around the neoprene cloth and I pulled him towards me as hard as I could to stop his steps. It barely worked, our feet stopped at the edge of what looked like an earthen ditch and our eyes fell on...

"- Oh no, oh my...

\- That's Leigh-Anne over there. We have to help her, Marlow, we have to...

\- Don't move! "

I barely recognized my voice, it was high-pitched and dripping with fear. My fingers were burning from holding this piece of cloth so tightly, knowing full well that if Alec chose not to listen to me that I would not be able to hold him back like that.

Below us was a spectacle of almost unbearable horror. There were three people moaning in the mud, barely struggling against their assailant, who was nothing more than a Capitol invention. Roots with brambles were coming out of the earth to wrap themselves around the bodies of the tribesmen and squeeze until they made a sordid creaking sound. The nearest tribe was Leigh-Anne, it was almost as tall as we were, and what I saw disgusted me. Her leg was stretched out at an angle inconceivable to the human body, but what horrified me most was the look in her eyes; it was empty as if an opaque veil had fallen over her blue pupils. It was almost as if she was already dead, only her moans proved that she was still alive.

"- Throw a knife at her. "

Alec's voice was low and heavy with the horrors we were witnessing, my body responded to my counterpart's request while my spirit clung to the suffering of the tribes below us. From the edge of the ditch, my knives did not miss their martyrs, and heaven counted three dead.


	12. nine

**Life's the prize for one**   
  
  


"-Marlow, I'm begging you. Come and help me. "  
  


I opened my eyes to the understanding of this familiar voice, the darkness darkened my vision and I could not find the owner of this voice. I gently pushed Alec's arm around my shoulders, I had no desire to frighten him or shorten those few minutes of sleep.   
  


" - Marlow, can you hear me? Marlow, can you hear me? Help me. Don't leave me. ", raised her voice.  
  


I fluttered my eyes a few times to sharpen my vision, or rather to adapt it to the surrounding darkness, I could now make out the outline of the yellow fir trees and their leaves, which were rising in the light wind. The silhouette stood behind the body of one of the spruces, his hand barely protruding from the trunk, but that was enough for me to see his hand sign. It wasn't safe to venture into the forest without my partner, and yet I was already standing up and following that oppressive voice. Something was bothering me. The tone of voice was familiar, yet I couldn't put my finger on who that person was. I also couldn't control my legs, which were leading me straight to the dirt ditch that had engulfed several tribes earlier in the evening.   
  


" - We have to help him, Marlow. "  
  


I turned sharply to meet my teammate's closed eyes, he must have felt me get up and follow me, but I didn't even hear him. I whispered his name, surprised to see him and to hear words similar to those spoken when Leigh-Anne was the victim of a trap set by the creators of the game.   
  


" - You're not going to help him?

\- What are you talking about, Alec? Help who?"  
  


Alec was coming close to the edge again, forcing me to watch him, I was afraid he'd try something stupid or stand too close and root would grab his leg. His gaze caught mine, his was hard while mine was lost. Further down in the pit I could make out a new body and when my eyes finally fell on the victim's face, I had a high heart.   
  


"Newt! Newt! "   
  


No, it wasn't possible. Newt was not part of the tribes, he could not be in the arena, he could not fight or represent a victim. His brother was supposed to be in District 4 helping unload the fishermen's fish shipments and reassure their mother about Marlow's fate in the arena. No. Newt couldn't be in the arena, let alone in that cruel pit, it wasn't possible...

"Help me, Marlow, I beg of you. I'm your brother, help me.

\- But it's not possible, you can't be here...

\- I'm in pain, I beg you! "  
  


Leigh-Anne's cry a few hours earlier seemed more bearable to me than the one my brother had just given when a root crushed one rib and scratched the upper one with his brambles. I could not even control myself, my eyesight was blurred, and I soon begged him not to scream anymore. I couldn't tolerate his screams, I couldn't bear to see him suffer. I couldn't accept that he too was in the arena.   
  


" - Throw a knife at him. "  
  


The same sentence in a plea for me to ease Leigh Anne's suffering the day before, but now Alec seemed more distant. The fact that it was no longer his friend who was a victim of the pit was no longer his problem, he didn't care if it was my brother moaning and breaking his throat. If I couldn't save him, I was at least going to help him.

My hand went down on my knife belt, unhooked a strap to grab the metal tip, but all my hand encountered was emptiness. My belt was empty, completely empty. I didn't have a knife in my possession. This was not possible. I must have had four left. I still had them when I went to bed. Alec was staring at me with a small amused smile, shrugging his shoulders as if to ask what I was going to do now that I had no weapons and no way to help my brother.

Newt's voice resounded again, he was struggling limply against the roots that were taking more and more ground on his meager body. One of them nested around his neck planted its brambles in the flesh and pushed itself as far as it could go. My brother's words became incomprehensible, drowned in a tide of blood.   
  


" - Newt, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Newt, Newt, Newt, Newt...

\- Marlow. Marlow, hey.

\- I can't help you, I'm so...

\- Marlow! OH!"  
  


I opened my eyes, which I had closed in the middle of my crying, to meet Alec's gaze, he wasn't as hard or petty as he used to be, but it was too late. Newt was dead because I hadn't been able to help him, because Alec hadn't done anything to help him either.   
  


" - Marlow,shh. It's okay, it was just a dream. "  
  


I closed my eyes again, refusing to be fooled by this false teammate, but I still welcomed this comforting hand behind my back. It didn't help me stop sobbing, but it made me feel less alone in my pain.   
  


"'Low, open your eyes. Look at me, I promise you it was just a bad dream. Look, you'll see. "  
  


And that's what I did. It pissed me off to give him my trust after three days in the arena together and a week in training, but I did. I really relied on Alec's opinion and words, giving him protection and I was sure he was looking out for mine.

What I saw when I opened my eyes was Alec's face in close-up: frowning eyebrows, a watchful gaze, a concerned expression. His hand on my back was pushing me to sit up slowly, and I could see at that moment that we were still in the same place. We were sitting against the thick trunk of yellow spruce, the place where we were sleeping tonight with one of us standing guard. My knife belt was not empty and held the four knives I had left.   
  


" - Alec, I was there. At the ditch. My brother, he was--was...

\- Your brother is at home in your family cocoon. It's all right, Marlow, I promise. He's not with us in the arena, and he won't be. "  
  


I knew he was right, but that dream was as consistent as reality or life in the arena was. The crackling of the coast still echoed in my eardrums, and I tried to calm my sobs. Alec was right: Newt wasn't in the arena, but we were. There was no way that my crying would attract the Career Group and that I was responsible for Alec's death. Being responsible for my brother's death in my dream had been traumatic enough that I didn't want to relive a similar scenario right away.

Alec continued to gently calm me down, gently rubbing my back, completely frozen by the low temperature, and whispering some typical District Eight anecdotes to me. He persisted until my cheeks were dry and my breathing was light.  
  


♚➳ . ✯♛  
  


I felt bad. Very badly. I don't know what to blame, as there are so many culprits: could it be malnutrition, or could it have been the change from barely sustainable heat to almost polar cold at night, or maybe it could have been that nightmare that was still clinging to my mind? I was thirsty and my face was wet with sweat, I had stopped dabbing my face for a long time, it was useless. It was so hot that just blinking made us sweat huge drops of sweat. So Alec and I were emitting a lovely scent. The arena was really robbing us of our humanity.

The fact that we could still walk and still be fit enough to stand up straight was a feat, Alec staggered from time to time and I was suffocating in the heat and yet I felt like my bones were frozen. We progressed slowly, but surely towards the break of the yellow spruce trees and the edge of the shoreline, the plan was to move to the other side of the arena to leave the Quarries far behind and avoid them for as long as possible. Crossing the river would also allow us to fill our empty canteen, quench our thirst, and clean our filthy faces. I was sure that my family would be unable to recognize me on the screen with such an appearance, fortunately, my armband displayed the District number.

" - And here we are! Step one: Complete. ", Alec bragged.

I wondered how he managed to keep this light-hearted attitude in such a chaotic context. Alec managed to keep a fine and friendly smile when we were talking, he remained perfectly capable of sleeping as if he were in another place, and above all he never showed any discouragement. I appreciated him very much for this last point, not seeing him give up prevented me from giving up and brooding in anticipation of my certain death. Instead, I clenched my teeth and kept moving forward while exchanging a few topics of conversation (which interested me more than I would admit) while ignoring the dome that made us fairground beasts stared at by spectators thirsty for action.

"A bit of wind feels good."

I stretched out my arms, tilting my head back to soak in the warm air, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Alec imitate me. It made me want to laugh, but I couldn't make a sound. The arena was crushing my vocal cords, while the shadow of the Grim Reaper was sticking to me. 

I had retrieved the canteen from Alec's bag to fill it, using the excuse of slipping my feet into the water when it was not necessary. It was a great help, it was much better to soak in the pleasant water than to splash around in his lukewarm sweat.

"- Do you think we'll be here much longer?

\- No, I'm almost finished filling it.

\- I'm talking about the Games. How much longer are we gonna be stuck in this arena? "

It was an excellent question to which none of the tribes had an answer, yet everyone was eager to know it. I would like to be able to know how long I should survive like this, whether I would give my last breath for a Game, and how I would die. Knowing would make me less anxious. I would close the neck carefully and get up painfully, the suit fitted my body like a second skin and did not hinder any of my movements, but even supporting it was beginning to become painful.

"- Ready to continue with stage two.

\- Look, they look like dandelions. Do you have them in your district?"

Alec showed me the flowers along the fir tree line we'd just left, I told him we didn't have any, but I saw some in the botany books at school. Alec didn't have any in his District either, the textile industry had razed the last green fields to create new factories and the pollution that came out of them made cultivation impossible.

"- Even the weeds can't grow."

Crouched down, Alec picked some and showed me the bundle of floral hairs. If my memory was correct, I had learned in botany class that this bundle was called the egret and actually allowed for optimal dispersal in the wind so that it could be planted in various places and multiply in some way. Normally it was almost as soft as silk, which Alec was quick to confirm. It was curious to discover basic elements of nature in a cruel context, but Alec said that one should enjoy small moments like these. He wasn't wrong, after all, our lives might end in this arena.

" - You hear that humming sound? "I asked as I stopped along the way.

My eyes met his and we scanned the surroundings for the noise, weapons in hand. The origin of the noise soon came into our field of vision, and I understood that it was not a buzzing sound, but rather a flapping of wings. A flock of birds was coming straight at us, so fast that I could barely grab a knife for protection. I had an arm in the visor, hoping to protect my eyes from the claws, but it was totally useless, as the birds were all circling around me and heading only for Alec. Alec.

"- Alec! "

It couldn't happen, I already had someone in my dream today and it was inconceivable that Alec would follow. Yet the birds would not deign to leave him in peace, and plunged straight at him, lightly avoiding the machete blows Alec was issuing to defend himself. One of my knives pierced the breast of one of the birds before it could stick its beak into my partner's temple. Only that wasn't enough, Alec was being invaded and attacked from all sides. My third knife narrowly missed its target. The blood became visible, and I felt a high heartbeat. Is that what it was? Our fatal death? Being pecked by fowls of doom?

Without thinking twice, I braved the protective field formed by the last row of birds to help Alec. I was pecked, clawed, winged, and struck with blows of incredible violence. I heard a squeak that I did not identify as my own and finally hit a solid body. I placed the palms of my hands in front of me, to push it and take it with me in my fall. The water enveloped us both in a light, protective foam, discouraging the birds from venturing into this turbulent liquid. The horde swirled for a few moments over the water before abandoning its position and leaving the area. It was about time, my lungs were burning and honestly, I was afraid of discovering another danger in the water. I climbed to the surface first by hoisting Alec, who was coughing loudly, before painfully joining him onshore.

"-Alec?"


	13. ten

Finnick POV

The countdown to zero always took place in an almost stunning silence, with spectators and mentors holding their breath until they heard the gunshot. Yet another year I had to endure the same scenario, sitting on that damn chair for as long as the Games lasted. Not to flinch, not to get angry, not to let one's emotions show. The Games gave Capitol Hill the opportunity to spy on every former winner and to chat about them.

But Finnick was used to that. The innocence of childhood had been shattered by his entry into the Games, and every ounce of naivety had been wiped out when Snow reminded him that he was the new puppet of choice on Capitol Hill. Over the years, Finnick had woven himself a mask that he now wore with caution and disdain. However, attending the Games was never an easy task, Finnick promised himself every year that he wouldn't take any interest in his candidates, and every year he failed miserably. This year was no exception. Marius seemed pretty well prepared both mentally and physically, and that's what made Finnick quite... bitter. How could you be mentally ready for the Games? There was nothing more unhealthy than the Games. Nothing less predictable than the horrors that could happen once in the arena.

\- Yes, Mags. It's going to be okay.

Mags' presence was comforting and brought a little serenity in such a sinister context. Finnick swallowed a tiny sip of water for fear that it would get stuck in his throat. In three seconds, the seventy-fourth edition of the Games would begin. In three seconds his tributes may die. In a way, maybe that was what Finnick was hoping for: that Marlow and Marius's suffering would be shortened, as well as his own.

\- Damn it.

It was not possible. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen for a single second, they were riveted on the silhouette of Marlow who had just jumped off the islet and was running at an incredible speed towards the Cornucopia. One should never go to the Cornucopia without an ally and especially not alone, it was obvious that this was the best way to lose one's head. Obviously Marlow didn't care about this rule and continued his race until the first weapons present, stepping over the stand to grab a set of knives and a machete. She made her way out of the Horn of Plenty in an extremist manner before one of the Career Tributes grabbed her.

Mags' hand on my wrist relaxed slightly, reflecting the same state of mind I was in. A few seconds later I tensed up again as the District 8 tribe was getting dangerously close to Marlow, she wasn't even at the edge of the forest yet. She couldn't hear it coming?

\- What the hell was she doing? Why isn't she using that machete!

Mags's frail hand was slowly turning into a vise around my wrist, Mags understood what was going to happen. If we had to put things into perspective, his suffering would soon be shortened. This was the positive side of this arena full of carnage.

\- Damn it, she... An ally!

This girl had made an ally behind the back of her own mentor. The nerve! Nevertheless, I was relieved that the eight-man tribute was actually an ally and not Marlow's murderer. Now I had to dig up some information about him before Caesar and his henchman asked me about him. Marlow finally slipped into the forest with her ally, the latter holding a machete in his hand while Marlow was still holding her set of knives.

♚➳ . ✯♛

The Cornucopia had amassed its share of death for the first day, offering a spectacle bloody enough to satisfy the Capitolians. The days that followed were much quieter, and the tribes were cautious and avoided venturing too far into the arena except for the Quarry Alliance, who felt they had nothing to fear. It was true that they were more numerous and that this number gave them the advantage over a frontal attack or to encircle a tribe. Only the tributes of the seven were paired, and Marlow with Alec.

This secret pairing was more resourceful than I had hoped and the Capitol had not suspected. The mere thought was enough to put me in a good mood. The scoreboards had put my pair in sixth place from the beginning of their alliance and they hadn't come down since. It was a place high enough to draw attention to them, and to make it a little easier for me to buy the weapons for my tribute. The mentor of the eight had not even bothered to attend the first two days, certainly thinking that his team would be massacred right from the start. This year, fate was different: Leigh Anne was still alive and hiding somewhere in the spruce forest, and Alec was doing very well hunting with Marlow. When their mentor made his appearance in the lobby of the Games, he was immediately overwhelmed with questions from Games reporters. Of course, he said he knew about the alliance and even encouraged it. I had strong doubts about what he said, but I was relieved that he had answered them for me because I wouldn't have known what to say.

It wasn't until the end of the third day that the mentor lost one of his tributes, the daughter of the eight had fallen into a trap straight out of the twisted Capitol Hill mind. She wasn't the only one; there were two other tribesmen trapped in the same trap. The shouts soon echoed through the hall, cutting off the enthusiastic laughter of the spectators.

\- Sounds like roots, doesn't it, Caesar? asked the commentator.

\- Indeed! The creators have surpassed themselves again, applauds Caesar.

\- Nature takes back its rights, at last, it devours the tributes.

My imperturbable mask flickered as the screen left the scene of the root ditch to focus on two tributes that I was beginning to recognize too well. Mags muffled a small cry of surprise at my side as he watched Alec rush headlong towards the trap. As for Marlow, she didn't move one iota. That was good, she was keeping herself alive by avoiding following her ally to certain death, but this choice would want her to fall back into the rankings by insisting on the selfishness of the candidate. I would work harder to get her the weapons, but at least she would still be alive.

\- No, you're kidding me..., I thought to myself.

She really had to change her mind and make up her mind to move. She hadn't survived for three days to follow her ally in a sordid trap designed by the Capitol! It seemed as if fate had decided otherwise, as Marlow doubled the speed of her footsteps and soon reached Alec's level. By an unlikely miracle, Marlow managed to stop Alec just before they both fell into the voracious root ditch, and I had to hold back so as not to crush Mags' hand.

_\- Oh no, oh my..._

_\- It's Leigh-Anne down there. We've got to help her, Marlow, we've got to..._

_\- Don't move!_

From his microphone, Caesar asked the opinion of the spectators: would the pair dare to slip into the pit to lend a hand to the tributes held by the roots and brambles? Caesar opened the bets on their survival by asking for zoom on the state of the three tributes in the pit. I didn't have time to look away to avoid seeing the body of one of the boys being completely twisted and lacerated by the multiple brambles, it was inconceivable that he was still breathing. It was inhuman. Caesar's predictions were contradicted by Alec's hoarse voice asking Marlow to complete the three tributes. Three cannon shots were soon fired...

♚➳ . ✯♛

The fourth day was going by at breakneck speed. I had left Mags in the mentors' headquarters of our District to meet the spectators and answer the journalists' questions. Marlow had probably used up all her luck for the rest of the days in the arena, I really needed to get active and find her more sponsors. To do this, I had to seize the microphone of the journalists, praising the merits of my candidate by highlighting: the precision of her knife throwing, her courage, her altruism to have come to the aid of her ally, and to shorten the suffering of the condemned tribunes. With the Capitolians, I also had to use my words. 

To the men, I described Marlow as a modern-day Amazon who fought body and soul to stay alive. I reminded them of my candidate's small stature and insisted on her frail appearance, snatching a protective feeling from some male spectators.

With the women, it was a completely different matter. I couldn't sell Marlow without selling a part of myself. In general, women were less likely to see a tribute succeed in winning the Games. They didn't identify with her and didn't feel sorry for her, except for a few sensitive souls. Luckily I had no trouble finding the right words for my audience, I had a few strategies and promises to make, and that was it.

\- I soon had the full sum of Mags. It just needs to hold up a little longer.

Mags nodded his head in agreement, then gave me a sweet smile that I translated as "is everything okay? "and I shook his hand with the same sweetness. Mags summed up the day of our two tribes by explaining that Marius had chased a tribe with his Career Group and killed it with a sword, but that Marius had remained calm the rest of the day. I was about to ask him about Marlow when the screen was just showing the image of the pair.

_-Alec?, my tribute was cautiously asked_


	14. eleven

Hᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ I sᴀʏ ᴛʜɪs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ?

Hᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ I sᴀʏ ᴛʜɪs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ?

Hᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ I ᴘᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴅs?

Wʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ's ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ sᴏᴜʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ

The ruckus of these winged anomalies gave way to an almost stunning silence. My lungs suddenly seemed too big to fit inside my body, and the simple fact of having to breathe was a challenge. Those damn chickadees could have killed us, mere birds in front of humans. It was terrifying, but there was nothing simple about the arena in those days. The creators of the Games changed everything so that every leaf, every path in the arena became a deadly object. For a moment I had forgotten that when Alec and I were standing by the flowers. Alec.

\- Alec?

I was struggling to get up on my knees, this senseless escape into the lake had been draining and now that the adrenaline had been fully consumed, I doubted I could stand up without wobbling. Next to me, Alec uttered a kind of incomprehensible babbling. The nightmare wasn't over. How could I have been foolish enough to believe so?

Alec hadn't moved since I pulled him out of the water, he was lying on his back with his arms at his sides. Obviously, I was worried, the modified chickadees had attacked us violently and everything happened very quickly.

\- Alec? I asked again after I had managed to sit up straight.

To have witnessed the three tribes trapped in the pit and devoured by the roots was nothing compared to what I was seeing now. The chickadees had practically torn his neck, there was so much blood coming out of it that it was impossible to discern the wound. I was suffering from gagging, this couldn't happen to Alec. They had stood and fought together, he couldn't leave him now.

\- Alec, please. Answer me.

In a futile attempt to compress the wound, I placed the palm of my hands on Alec's neck, but this only made the situation worse. The bleeding was getting better, but it wasn't the only thing that was getting worse - the boy's breathing was getting worse. I was choking him. His big hand grabbed my wrist to prevent me from making the situation worse, but as soon as my hands were no longer on his neck a new stream of blood came out of the wound. It was awful, I couldn't see anything.

\- 'Low...

\- No, no. Don't speak, keep your strength. We need to find a solution, we need to.

I had none on hand, I was prepared to die and not to see a friend die in the arena beside me. I needed Alec to give me a solution, to help me, and to tell me how I could stop the bleeding.

\- It's over. 'Low, it's over... I can't.

\- No, no!

His breath was nothing more than a long rattle followed by the lapping of saliva and blood. He wasn't finished, he could still make it. I just had to find a solution, I had to find a solution.

My friend's face blurred, and no matter how much I blinked, I couldn't see him properly anymore. My eyes were burning, my tears were gnawing at my skin, and at that very moment, I didn't care anymore to remain discreet, to stifle my crying. Alec had kept me alive and reassured me many times as I painted to discern the nightmare from the equally nightmarish reality. Now he lay on the muddy ground, a gaping wound on his neck and his breath was weakening with every second.

\- Don't leave me.

Alec pleads with me, I can feel his hand squeezing mine with a strength that is astonishing for his condition. Of course, I can't. Abandoning him was never part of my plans. I wish I could do much more than just stay by his side until the end, I wish I could buy him a return ticket to Capitol Hill to be treated, but my dreams of a utopian world are not beyond their idyllic nature. The sky of the arena doesn't open in half to come and pick up Alec, who now lies in my arms.

\- Tell me a memory of yours.

A souvenir. Before landing at the Capitol, my mind was cluttered with memories. From now on, the only ones that come to mind are the ones I would cherish until the last moment. I nod my head as I clear my throat, my throat is tight and threatens to break at the next sobs. I don't know if I would be able to share my memories, but since it's Alec, I can at least try.

\- Storms in District 4 happen infrequently, but when they do, it's best to stay home. One day, the last fishing boats had just returned from sea and the cargo had been quickly stowed away because a hurricane was forecast. I must have been twelve or thirteen years old, I don't remember. Newt had fallen in love with a rabbit he had found once when he came home from his leg treatment, and he had been with him ever since.

I was sniffing painfully as I remembered the scene mixing images from my nightmare, the hurricane, and Alec. I cough, swallow my saliva and try to continue in a steady voice:

\- This reckless fool had gone back to look for the damn rabbit as the storm hit the District, I was worried to death and I left the house too. I found him hiding, sheltered from the wind between the blocks of stone, and that awful rabbit huddled against his chest. When we came home, my parents were close to giving us the sermon of a lifetime, but they refrained when they saw me. I had never been so worried and angry with Newt.

The cannon sounds for Alec before I can finish my sentence. The shore is silent and calm, too. Slowly the muscles in my face tighten before I relax and give up the battle. I collapse, grabbing Alec's body against me as hard as I can. I want him to be with me all the way to the end, I don't know if there is one or not, but Alec swore there was, so I want him to know that I stayed by his side all the way.

With my head buried against his chest, I let out all my anger at this injustice that we are victims of. I scream my windpipe out, I scream out all my sadness. My sadness is smothered by the neoprene fabric of the victim's uniform that Alec wears, ricocheting with mine to send me back to my pain. We had done nothing to deserve this, to be thrown into this arena. I should never have survived this long, I should never have had to face the loss of an ally... a friend.

I stand up, wipe my nose with the back of my sleeve before gently resting Alec's body on the ground. I bring his hands together against his abdomen and retrieve his backpack and put it on. I rub my wet cheeks frantically before giving my friend one last look. My hand trembles, but moves forward to his forehead to tame the crazy curls that are hindering his skin and I gently fold his eyelids down. He has suffered enough, he no longer needs to witness the horrors of the arena.

𝐈 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭

𝐈 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞

𝐈 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐈 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry, but the chapter is finally posted! I didn't
> 
> want to write it because it meant I had to say goodbye to Alec
> 
> and I wasn't ready for it. This chapter is shorter, but Marlow
> 
> suffered enough in this one. I am working on the next one.
> 
> See you soon ~


	15. twelve

𝕷𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖓𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊

My eyes flicker several times, the time it takes to adjust to the daylight and the brightness that used to gild the arena. I had no idea how long I had slept, probably a long time since the sun was just finishing its ascent. Slowly, I sat up again and with my fingertips I counted the number of knives as if to reassure myself. My body protested, visibly greedy for rest. But rest was a luxury I did not have in this arena. I mumbled to my body to show a little more courage, that its misery would not last much longer. With the death of the tributes from Nine and Five yesterday, and the death of ... Alec's, there were only five tributes left to be carefully avoided as much as possible. It must have been within my grasp, I had no choice either. It was either that or decide to face them head on and risk dying for sure.

Last night, Alec's death had turned me upside down to the point where I had lost all my bearings. I had been physically unable to orient myself properly to cross the river as he and I had planned. I had not been able to return to our shelter as we had been attacked by Swen and Ruby nearby. So it was too risky to go back if the Quarries were still there. I had turned back to the edge of the fir trees, followed a particularly steep slope and found the ideal place to spend the night. The piles of earth had consolidated with the night-time temperatures and provided the perfect rampart against any assailant who was hoping to sneak in and take the life of the tribe of the 4th. In other words, my night had gone smoothly and I was not against it.

I stretched my legs out in front of me, blowing slowly before grabbing my feet between my fingers, took a long breath in before relaxing and continuing my stretch at the arms. The scratches on the chickadees were not as red as the day before, but they still tickled when I made certain movements with my left arm. I would never see the birds the same way again. It was a miracle that I didn't think about it during the night. I would then grab the backpack that had served as my poor pillow so I could open it and find out what food I had left. Since the attack of the Career tribes, I had only been able to get half a protein bar under my teeth and it was starting to go back several hours or even a full day. I hadn't had the opportunity or the clear mind to set another trap since Alec was gone.

That's when I realized I was completely alone. Alec had been at my side from the beginning, supporting me in all the tasks and now that I was deprived of his presence, I was no longer sure I could do it with the same ease. Finally, these Games were far from easy, but it was more reassuring and quicker to set a trap when someone was standing guard.

\- Pull yourself together. You are not alone. You have... Finnick.

Who was gonna buy that? My mentor had assured me that he would do everything he could to keep me alive as best he could, from a large heated room with a glistening buffet while I froze my butt off at night and bursting with heat during the day. Not to mention the most important information: I was in an arena, surrounded by other young people who wanted me dead. So yes, I had the cruel feeling of being alone. Luckily the canteen in the backpack was still half full, I could probably last another day drinking sparingly and in control. The only problem was food, but my brother Newt had always told me that you could survive for several weeks without food, so I was hoping this was true. I would soon find out, I guess.

♚➳ . ✯♛

I had just swallowed the last drop of the gourd, not enough to satisfy my thirst, but I would have to make do with it. It had been dark for some time now and there was no way I was going to risk getting out of my hiding place and going back to the river. I had not been born with night vision, and I did not trust the other inventions of the Capitol. I would wait until tomorrow, crossing my fingers that it would go smoothly.

The sky hadn't counted any deaths for today, I deduced that the other tribes had had the same reflection as me and that they had granted themselves a day without confrontation. No doubt this must not have been entertaining for the small people of Panem whose eyes were riveted on the giant screens. If no one came out of hiding tomorrow, the organizers of the Games would take care of the problem. This had been seen in previous Games, and honestly I still preferred to come out of my own free will rather than be flushed out by a horde of venomous snakes. I had already given enough with the horde of chickadees.

\- No need to bother you from where you are Alec, I'd be careful.

It was a promise I made to myself first, to Alec who had constantly protected me, and to my family for whom I would fight as long as I could to get back to them alive. I didn't even know what to do with the bodies when they came out of the arena? Were they brought back to the families or dumped in the Capitol incinerator?

I shook my head, this kind of morbid questioning would not help me to sleep. If I wanted to come out of hiding tomorrow, I had to get as much strength as I could from the sleep as I could get from the nutrients I didn't have.

♚➳ . ✯♛

One more day in this arena of misfortune. I hadn't waited for the organizers to push me out, I had closed my backpack early in the morning and decamped while the sun wasn't yet at its peak. Dirty blonde streaks were coming out of the bun that Cinq had made for me to enter the arena, I didn't even dare to imagine what I should look like. I already had the smell to get an idea: a mixture of dirt, sweat, and dried blood coming from my arm. I gathered the wicks behind my ears, making sure that nothing could interfere with my hearing. I walked slowly towards the field of flowers, my legs bent, ready to run away as soon as I heard the slightest suspicious noise. I had no choice but to expose myself at the entrance of the river if I wanted to fill my canteen, so I hoped that luck would be on my side today.

I had only a few meters to go before I was at the river's edge, I had just passed the floral field that separated the river from the spruce trees. Until now, I hadn't heard anything threatening: no tribal cries, chickadee songs, or anything else that could have turned out to be a real danger. I glanced behind me before taking off my backpack to open it and take out the canteen. It was now lying on the ground, a few centimeters from my foot, as I lowered myself to immerse the canteen in the water. My eyes were scanning the surroundings, my mind was on the lookout and my other hand was holding one of the knives still in my belt.

The mission had taken place without a surprise guest, I was not unhappy about it. As soon as the gourd was filled, I replaced the neck and slipped it back into the backpack. I had no reason to linger here any longer, and I decided not to waste any more time. I went around the river until I found the place where the difference in level was the least pronounced. I didn't trust that the river could hide much, so the shortest path was fine with me.

My stomach was now just a pile of knots protected by the fat of my belly, building more knots as I progressed. The water reached my shins, it was icy and this sharp contrast soothed my body which was burning under the almost intolerable sun. This difference in temperature was almost disturbing as it was so strong, but since I didn't know when I could have some freshness again I appreciated this contrast during the crossing. This did not mean that I was not in a hurry.

I reached the opposite shore in record time, blessing my position as courier in District 4. As soon as I put my foot on the ground, I rushed to reach the shade offered by the forest also present on this side. Not only was the sun hurting me, but I was much less exposed in the forest. I was pushing back the branches, sinking into the dark of the forest when one branch cracked. My whole body tightened immediately. My heart pounded hard against my chest, fear froze my blood, the metal knife handle burned my palm, and I...

The shock. A force so brutal hit me from the right that my breath got stuck in my esophagus. The branches crumbled under our force, tipping us down the mound of earth. The fall was long and slowed down to ensure maximum pleasure for the spectators before my back hit the gravel with a sharp noise. The weight of my assailant suffocated me a little more, allowing the gravel to sink into my wetsuit.

\- Long time no see.

That voice. I didn't need to open my eyes to know it was Marius, my district counterpart who had pledged allegiance to the Career Tributes. His knee was pressing on my stomach as if to emphasize the pleasure he had in celebrating our reunion. If only Alec were here, he could have helped me out of this situation instead of being alone with Marius. 

Alone. Were Marius's acolytes going to show up any minute? If that was the case then I had absolutely no chance. I didn't stand much of a chance against Marius, the human fish crusher. The sun was burning my retina, but I still managed to discern his face before my eyesight became more acute. I was right, he was smiling at me. 

\- So you lost your tongue?

Marius asked about my lack of repartee, but I didn't say a word. I was conserving my energy elsewhere than in a useless and unhealthy discussion. Instead of checking up on him, I tried in vain to get out of his grip, but he didn't move an iota. His smile grew larger as I gesticulated, his knee sank deeper into my fear-ridden stomach. 

\- That's all right. I prefer girls who keep quiet anyway.

Marius winked at me before his big paws gently encircled my neck before I could feel a real vise. The contact was warm and solid, almost like iron that was being forged around my skin and gradually shrinking. My hands came to grasp his, I grabbed his fingers and then pulled on them in an attempt to loosen his grip. My assailant's amusement only increased, as if watching me struggle was the gift of the day. 

\- Go.. To hell.

I spat out a painful mixture of words, breath and venom by hitting his arms with my fists, the attempt was useless. Marius didn't seem to be bothered by it, his ice-block appearance made even more sense at that moment and I felt so helpless. Condemned to death by asphyxiation. The work of Marius. A cannon shot and my profile displayed in the sky tonight. 

I had to fight with my weapons and stop borrowing those of my enemy. The force belonged to Marius and he had been claiming it since the training sessions. I had a choice among the remaining weapons: liveliness, surprise, and fall. The outcome that one never suspected in a good book. In this case, it would be more like a dive, but that would do the trick. At least, I hoped so. 

One of my hands abandoned Marius's invincible arms to look for a precise object along my flank, buried in the gravel during our breakthrough. I was suffocating, my throat was pinching and my lungs were screaming for a little oxygen, but I had to hold on. Every second I kept telling myself that I had to hold on for a few more seconds. That it could be done. That I could do it. I had to do it for them. 

Finally my hand closed around the thin, rounded metal handle that I had come to know so well. I tried to breathe in one last time before the final blow. _One, two. One, two, and three_. The knife went into Marius's thigh. His carnivorous smile twisted into a grimace of pain and the monster loosened his grip a little under a plethora of insults. I wasted no time bending my knees against my chest, and when the counterattack of my counterpart followed; I was ready. He bent over towards me again, hands looking for my neck, and I stretched my legs, pushing his torso with all my strength to make him tumble over me. Marius waltzed in the air, his hand grabbing my hair in a reflex that made me scream before sinking us both in the river.


	16. twelve bis

𝐿𝑎𝑦 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠, 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠

𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑  
  
  
  


The water welcomed this intrusion with an icy bite, so cold that my skin felt like it was splitting into multiple pieces. The surface was moving away from me in a cloud of foam. A few reddish bubbles rose to the surface, and it took me a few seconds before I realized that it was blood. I understood that it was from me when a few strands of blond hair followed those bubbles.

I raised my arms in front of me in the breaststroke to project myself forward, towards the foam that was above me. My head threw me painfully, a rapid and deep tingling at the top of my head. I bent my arms in front of my torso before extending them again in front of me to repeat the movement and continue my ascent when suddenly I felt something grab my ankle.

Marius was as tenacious as a leech. He grabbed my ankle with probably all the strength he had left and pulled me down despite my efforts to reach the surface of the water. What was the ultimate bad luck for the two tribes of District 4 to get into a water fight? The organizers of the Games must have been thrilled, it was rare to witness such a scene in the water, let alone between two tribes in the fishing district.

I was kicking blindly, which Marius probably avoided since his catch was always held on my ankle. A second catch arrived at my shin and I kicked again. This time I did not miss my target. I had felt a fairly large and muscular area under my foot, probably the shoulder or the base of the arm.  
  


Since the previous tactic had more or less borne fruit, I decided to trust him a second time and leave the force to Marius. I let myself slide into the depths of the water, enough so that my abductors were at the level of my opponent's shoulders and only covered his senses. If Marius corresponded well to the image of a leech, I transformed myself faithfully into a boa constrictor. My legs wrapped around my opponent's neck and I squeezed as much as I could.

The only question I was asking myself at that moment was: which of us would hold our breath the longest? Marius had started to choke me before we were thrown in the water and I hadn't really had a chance to take in much oxygen while his hands were no longer around my neck. For now, the pattern was reversed: I was the one choking him, but he had much more strength than me and his blows on my legs threatened to make me lose my grip. 

After a few moments that seemed like an eternity, the incessant pounding of Marius's fists stopped abruptly. Too suddenly for this to be normal, I could feel him wiggling between my legs and a mass of air bubbles rose up.

There was something hanging from Marius's leg. I couldn't distinguish it properly with the swirl of the water and my growing panic. It was a small, dark and at the same time almost transparent being. His bell-shaped head reminded me of the jellyfish that were sometimes found washed up on the beach. If there was a species of jellyfish in the arena, I frankly doubted that this species had escaped the modifications of the Capitol.

A sharp pain gnawed at my arm, similar to an electric shock. I was smothering a cry for not drinking the cup while waving my arm. Marius's mutation had brought his girlfriends together in no time. One of them had just hugged my right arm and didn't seem to want to leave it, despite my efforts to get rid of it. The bell on the head of this maritime being rose to reveal two yellow slits and a thin mouth overflowing with sharp teeth. With my free hand, I finally managed to free the beast from my arm watching its extensible tentacles contracting strangely.   
  


Marius was struggling more and more in front of the assault of these aquatic predators, they came up from the depths of the water in small groups of three and advanced straight on us at a dazzling speed. One of them had just spun straight on the thorax of my enemy and this last could not contain a cry transformed into a kind of gurgling. Three jellyfish appeared from the depths when there were already two that were only a few meters away from us.

One of the two made a left turn to throw itself on my defenseless ankle, I had no choice but to abandon my hold around Marius to move my legs and try to push away this being thirsty for human flesh. A second shock set my neck on fire the next second. After Marius's iron vise, I was charged with venomous tentacles. I kicked the spongy form that tried to wrap itself around my ankle and grabbed the head of the jellyfish close to my face. The contact was unpleasant, it was as if my fingers were digging into the jellyfish and the jellyfish escaped without being restrained. The two yellow slits opened abruptly, daring me to insist as I approached its tiny mouth opening above my jaw.

My lungs screamed for a little oxygen as I debated in my agony. Marius sank below me, wrapped in two groups of jellyfish that were probably having a field day, while I pushed away from the one that was still trying to grab my ankle.

I appealed to the memory of my muscles so that they could regain the strength and movement to propel me towards the surface of the water as I fought against the gelatinous substance that clung to my neck. My torment was expressed in several bubbles of oxygen, my last ones spinning above me when suddenly the arena's dense bush came down on me again.  
  


As soon as my head was out of the water, I opened my mouth and swallowed large puffs of oxygen. Re-filling my esophagus with air seemed like a forced action, causing me to cough a few times as I pulled myself up onto the shore and dropped my head first onto the gravel. Between two coughs, my hand finally closed on a solid cylinder, and this time I was able to get rid of the jellyfish. There was no more resistance and the spongy shape landed a few meters away, as light as a maple leaf. I watched it disintegrate in the sun before my knees buckled and the gravel welcomed me back.

Slowly but surely my lungs filled up with air again, causing my chest to swell roughly in jerks and turns. This arena was truly a beehive of traps. As if killing each other between teenagers wasn't enough, the organizers had to design objects and creatures with murderous intent. A cannon shot rang out in the sky and gave me a start before I could catch my breath again in a calmer manner.   
  


\- At least I don't have to worry about you anymore Marius.

♚➳ . ✯♛

After several minutes, I finally got up. I couldn't stay longer on this beach, I was too exposed and defenseless. Indeed, I had no knife in my belt. I knew that one had been used in my fight against Marius and I deduced that the two remaining ones must have fallen into the water when I was defending myself against the jellyfish. In other words, I had no weapons left to survive in the killing arena and to face the remaining tribes. Nevertheless, for the time being, I felt lucky to have survived Marius's assault when the prognosis was all in his favor and to have escaped the tentacles of the aquatic mutations.

Of course, I was not completely unscathed. I had no more weapons, I still had my backpack soaked and stuck to my back. My right arm was completely numb, it seemed to weigh a ton and pull my body down. The tentacles of those jellyfish bastards were paralyzing, although the news was not very encouraging I was not really surprised. After all, I was familiar with the marine environment. The paresthesia shouldn't last more than a day, I had been quick enough to repel the damn jellyfish and all I had to do was pray that the Capitol didn't make their venom too strong. I could still bend my fingers, so I took that as a positive sign. It wasn't painful, but it was still an unpleasant sensation. I felt some tingling in my neck and some discomfort when I looked to the sides, but the movement was still doable. I wasn't doing too badly. After all, the jellyfish had gotten Marius's skin, so yes I was happy to get through it even if it meant I had to spend another day in the arena.


	17. thirteen

𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚍𝚍𝚜 𝙱𝚎 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛

The edition was coming to an end soon, I couldn't really realize the exact amount of time I'd spent in this arena but I felt like I'd been stuck there for a month. The nights were short and the days were long, but I felt like I'd been in this arena long enough to have developed some habits. Picking berries in the morning along my perimeter and in the evening, retrieving the unfortunate squirrel I had gotten stuck in my trap. Of course, since Alec's death, my habits had to be slightly modified: I only picked berries as a meal, hunting game alone had become too risky and, above all, I no longer had a weapon. The main thing was to stay alive without having to leave my hiding place, if an enemy head spotted me I would sign the end of my existence.

We were still five survivors fighting against the arena, against each other, and against ourselves. Last night, the cannon had counted the day's dead, including Marius who had tried to take my life before he himself succumbed to the assault of the aquatic creatures of the Capitol. I had come out of it unhurt, or almost unhurt, but I still couldn't realize how lucky I was. I had escaped Marius's blood lust, the tentacles of the jellyfish, and had managed to find a place to spend the night as well as the morning. This fight had left me with a few wrestling trophies. The sleeve of my arm was in tatters, so I had torn off what was hanging loosely to make sure that it couldn't be used against me to catch me or stop me in a possible escape. Now that there was no more tissue to cover my skin, I could clearly see the congestive redness that the tentacle had left on my arm. Over the hours, this redness had taken on a reddish-brown hue with some purplish veins. It was ugly to see.

But luck was always with me. The wound was awful, but the consequences were much less so. While my arm looked like it had been whipped with the rage of several lashes, the venom of the jellyfish was not as strong as I feared. My arm was still tingling at times, but I could move it again as I pleased, and that was the main thing. My neck was still a bit heavy, but it was something I could tolerate. I had survived in the arena so far, I wasn't ready to give up and let go now that victory was close. That my return to my family was only a day or two away. I could hold on, I had to.

♚➳ . ✯♛

The arena was terribly quiet. In the past, a little silence would probably have soothed me, but today it made me anxious. I had the impression that the warm film of sweat covering me suddenly turned to ice, wrapping my bones in its cold mantle. There was no cannon shot resounding in the sky, no screams, no flights of killer chickadees, there was nothing. Too much silence from the Capitol said nothing to me. He was probably preparing the next shot, and it would be a formidable one.

_Ting, ti-ting. Ting, ti-ting._

I tensed up, surprised by the sudden tinkling that came to break the stifling silence. It was almost like a blessing, my wish granted except that now I wished to go back. In a leaden silence, this subtle tinkling seemed to me to be as noisy as the orchestra of the Capitol banquets. My eyes were watching the sky, looking for the missive coming from the Capitol. Was it for me, or for another candidate who unknowingly was in the same area? Or worse: was it a trap?

Two drones were needed to send the letter, which came in the form of a thick rectangular box. On the sides of the box, the Capitol seal was affixed to it, and just reading the C-word was already making me nauseous. Once the package was deposited, I waited a few minutes to see if a candidate was going to come out of hiding, but it was not the case so I quickly left my shelter to move towards the missive. Two clip latches protected the package, but fortunately, they were easy to open. After all, I didn't want to hang around too much if one of the last remaining tribesmen had seen the package and decided to follow its trail to get their hands on one of the candidates.

Before my eyes appeared two twin weapons that I had come to know and become familiar with: the saïs. Finnick. He had managed to find these weapons for me, I don't know how or how long it took him, but he had succeeded. The timing was perfect since my knife set was empty and the grand finale was not far away. One of my hands found the familiar contact of the protective leather strap and the weight of the weapon adjusted to that of my arm. The training with Finnick had paid off, at least I knew how to use this weapon and how to turn its use to my advantage. I just hoped that this would be enough to survive until the end.

\- Thank you," I articulated to one of the cameras as a thank you to my mentor.

♚➳ . ✯♛

It had taken a few more hours, at least it seemed like hours, but I had lost all sense of time before I regained full use of my arm. The jellyfish toxin had proven to be more persistent than I had thought, but that was ancient history now. My movements were fluid again, responding immediately to my brain's commands without tensing up. Having two active arms reassured me a lot about the outcome of this 72nd edition of the Games. I might not come out of it alive, but at least I would have the satisfaction of having fought to the end.

The lapse of time which had elapsed since the reception of the saïs had allowed the organizers of the Games to push the last tribes to get closer. It was not a decision that delighted me, but the Capitol had once again used the best means: either I camped on my positions and welcomed the tornado in the hope that it would not crush the bones to the marrow (which I strongly doubted); or I went deeper into the rocky forest, where the tornado did not come very close.

My left hand held one of the saïs while the other was still lying in its case, attached to my hip. The leather straps pressed into my palm as I clutched the handle tightly, my anxiety buzzing in my ears until a hungry scream echoed through the forest. A male voice, if I could rely on my hearing and especially if it wasn't a distortion of the arena to play with the nerves of the last survivors.

My plan was simple, I wanted to reach the rocky hill that could be seen at the edge of this portion of the forest, I thought that this was the best place to survive. A high point that would allow me to see whoever approached and advise me of my defense technique. Most importantly, it might allow me to escape a group massacre. Since I was still stuck in this arena, I had nothing to lose by trying to reach the rock wall.

♚➳ . ✯♛

The scream didn't resonate a second time, nor did it come close to my position. I continued to advance cautiously, holding my weapon firmly in my hand, ready to fight with the first opponent who would fall on me even though my main objective was to reach the observatory. Many of the tribes of previous editions had lost their lives by paying little attention or believing that they had been bailed out a little too quickly for the taste of Capitol Hill. There was no way I would make the same mistake, especially having survived so long and carried the weight of Finnick's many pleas on my behalf.

\- Come back here, my little jay," cried a voice several meters away from me.

Immediately, in a reflex conditioned by this arena, I lay down on the ground, scrutinizing the scene before me. The survivor of District 2, Jasmine, had set off in pursuit of the boy from 7 Pliny whom I had observed a few days earlier drinking from the river. Jasmine's ponytail twirled wildly as she ran to get her hands on the boy, the young woman's handheld a bamboo blowpipe.

\- Get him!

A male voice shouted this order several meters away, taking me by surprise. I had forgotten that the Career Coalition would probably hold out as long as tribes from other Districts survived. Only Pliny and I were left before the coalition broke out for a death struggle between the tribes of the Carrière Districts. A whistle drew my attention again to the jet black-haired girl. Her mouth came off the tube to display a hungry smile. At her feet stood Pliny, hand on the arm where Jasmine's dart had hit him. So what was in those projectiles?

The boy in 7 had not said his last word. He sent his opponent into the roses by kicking him in the shin before rolling sideways in a poor attempt to escape. The male voice suddenly sounded, shouting to his colleague to get up and not force him down to finish the job himself.

"He says, "Come down. I was then looking upwards and my gaze finally caught Dax's silhouette. The boy of the 11? Allied to the Careers? It would have been surprising if Dax hadn't shown the extent of his talent in handling swords during training. He hadn't seen me, didn't expect me to show up in his blind spot, and above all, it might have been my only chance since Jasmine was busy with Pliny.

I swallowed a breath of air, oxygenating my lungs before getting out of my hiding place and using all the velocity my legs were capable of to surprise the tribe of the 11th. The latter turned in an extremist manner and avoided my attack. My son split the air before I brought him back to me in a defensive position.

\- Be careful, it would be stupid to repeat the carnage of the training sessions," Dax said.

No doubt he was referring to my unsuccessful attempts during sword fighting, even the instructor had been desperate to have such a poor student. But as Finnick had told me, the tribes would only remember this disappointing and laughable passage. They will forget all about my superb obstacle course and will blame my survival on luck. "And that's when you'll strike. "reminded me of my mentor's convincing and convincing voice.

\- I'll try to be fast.

Dax was staring at me from the height of six feet, staring resolutely at my little person. The sclera of his eyes was an ominous yellow, giving his black skin a sickly look. Was he really sick or was it just the fatigue accumulated during the Games? Could I still have a little bit of luck with me?

My opponent brandished his sword and struck it towards my chest, and I barely bet the blow. I had reacted quickly, but the force of the blow had almost deflected my sai. I quickly retreated when Dax charged the second blow in a guttural scream, I ducked once again. For the third shot, I did not hesitate to throw myself to the ground and roll to the right. The sword fell on the trunk behind me. I took advantage of this slowing down of my opponent's pace to get up and free the binocular of my sai from its case. I calibrated for a few moments its grip in the hollow of my palm, gauging the capacities of my arm which were now entirely free of toxin.

\- Speed won't allow you to avoid my blows forever," Dax sputtered.

Mucus was coming out of the tribe's lips, a color as sickly as the one surrounding his black irises. His sword was free from the bark of the tree and pointed in my direction. Was I afraid? Yes. I could almost feel my knees knocking together, but I was not giving up my defensive position. Now that my weapon had found its twin, it was time for me to defend myself properly. As my opponent took off, a cannon shot rang in the sky.

This time Dax sabred right in front of him and I didn't duck. On the contrary, as he drew his sword towards me my feet slipped closer to him to wedge his sword halfway between the large point and the short point of my weapon. I turned my wrist to block his weapon and spread his defense to come and pierce his chest with my second sai. I reversed the wrist movement to let the sword fall to the ground and, in a quick and fluid movement, I turned around and threw my weapon straight ahead. A second cannon shot pierced my hearing a few seconds after Jasmine's body collapsed to the ground, the main point of the sai solidly embedded between its two orbits.

A powerful high-hearted shot lifted my stomach, forcing my legs to bend, forcing me to crouch down to release the nightmare that resulted from my work. A barbaric act to survive, an action that revolted me as much as it relieved me because it allowed me to survive a little longer and perhaps win a return ticket to my District, far from all the horrors of the Capitol.

♚➳ . ✯♛

The cannon had greeted Dax as I struggled to interrupt the tidal wave that was overwhelming me. Somehow I took comfort in knowing that his troubles were over. I had to lean on a pile of stones to get back on my feet, getting little cooperation from my wobbly legs. I managed to get close to the body of the boy on the 11th, without throwing up again, and grabbed the handle of my gun and pulled it out of my victim's chest. A final burst of blood spilled on the blue suit giving it a purple tint, almost the same color that was staining my weapon. I couldn't bring myself to wipe the blade on him, so I rubbed it vigorously against a few patches of grass.

Removing the sai from Jasmine's head was much more difficult. I didn't dare to look at the body and so I would blindly shoot at the handle of my weapon hoping that it would come out immediately. A creaky squeak made me understand that the sai was too deep to retrieve my weapon without having to look at my victim's face. A face I will probably never forget.

I took a deep breath before lowering my head and crossing Jasmine's dead eyes. Her large, bulging eyes were lost in the opposite direction, blood covering the cornea of one before gruesomely coloring the rest of her face. In the middle of his forehead was almost proudly enthroned the sai whose last whim was not to dislodge himself from his skull.

My hands were trembling up to the handle, before squeezing it and pulling the blade out of Jasmine's face. The blade dislodged from her lair, throwing me off balance for a moment before my legs reacted. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for following along, please feel free to comment. I'll try my best to take your remarks into consideration and work harder! x
> 
> I post this story also on Wattpad at @Watsonnement


End file.
